PEOPLE 
OF  POSITION 


STANLEY  PORTAL  HYATT 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 
THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 
LOS  ANGELES 


PEOPLE  OF  POSITION 


\ 


LALAGE 


PEOPLE    OF 
POSITION 


BY 

STANLEY  PORTAL  HYATT 

Author  of  "Little  Brown  Brother."  "End  of  the  Road,"  etc. 


With  a  Frontispiece  by 
H.  RICHARD  BOEHM 


NEW  YORK 
WESSELS  &  BISSELL  CO. 

1910 


COPYRIGHT,  1910,  BY 
WESSELS  &  BISSELL  CO. 


September 


THE    PREMIER    PRESS 
NEW   YORK 


PROLOGUE 

GRIERSON  refilled  the  magazine  of  his  rifle 
carefully — when  you  are  dealing  with  South 
American  patriots  it  is  better  to  take  no  chances, 
even  though  the  enemy  has  retreated — then  he 
wiped  a  couple  of  half-dried  blood  spots  off  his 
cheek,  and,  after  that,  went  over  to  where  lay  the 
body  of  the  man  from  whom  that  same  blood  had 
spurted. 

For  a  full  minute  he  stood  very  still,  gazing 
with  sombre  eyes  at  the  kindly  face  which  seemed 
to  be  smiling  back  at  him  even  in  death;  then  he 
knelt  down,  and,  with  infinite  gentleness,  smoothed 
the  ruffled  hair,  arranged  the  collar  so  as  to  hide 
the  bullet  hole  in  the  bronzed  throat,  and  crossed 
the  hands  on  the  breast.  When  he  got  up  again 
his  face  was  twitching  strangely,  seeing  which,  the 
American  officer,  who  had  come  up  behind  him, 
suddenly  became  busy  with  his  men. 

It  was  one  of  those  stories  which  seldom  get 
into  the  newspapers,  possibly  because  they  are  so 
utterly  unimportant  in  themselves — a  ragged  band 
of  half-breeds  robbing  and  murdering  in  the  name 
of  liberty;  a  landing  party  of  marines  from  the 


2136032 


vi  PROLOGUE 

nearest  warship,  which  happened  to  be  American ; 
and  a  futile  little  fight  ending,  as  usual,  in  the  de- 
feat of  the  brigands.  Only  this  time,  an  English- 
man, who  had  gone  out  with  the  marines,  had  been 
killed;  and  now  Grierson,  his  friend,  was  trying  to 
realise  the  fact. 

"  He  was  awfully  good  to  me,  the  whitest  man 
that  ever  stepped.  I  met  him  down  the  coast  a 
year  ago — my  luck  was  right  out — and  he  brought 
me  along  with  him.  I  hadn't  had  a  proper  meal 
for  days,  much  less  a  smoke,  and  he'd  only  my 
word  for  who  I  was.  Yet  he  risked  it,  and  I've 
been  here  ever  since."  Grierson,  who  had  been 
walking  in  silence  beside  the  marine  officer,  spoke 
suddenly. 

The^  American  nodded  sympathetically.  "  It 
was  hard  luck  to  be  killed  by  a  rotten  Dago  outfit 
like  that.  Whenever  you  get  a  coloured  man  talk- 
ing about  liberty  you  know  he's  just  prospecting 
round  for  a  chance  to  break  the  Eighth  Command- 
ment." 

Grierson  muttered  a  curse;  then,  as  if  he  wanted 
to  confide  in  someone,  possibly  as  a  relief  to 
his  own  feelings,  "  His  partner  will  be  here  in  a 
week's  time;  he  was  on  his  way  already.  When 
he  comes  I  shall  clear  out  and  go  home." 

Captain  Harben  nodded  again.  "  Meaning 
England?"  he  asked. 


PROLOGUE  vii 

"  Yes,  England — London.  I've  had  ten  years 
knocking  about  the  world— China,  India,  Aus- 
tralia, and  all  round  this  forsaken  continent;  and 
the  sum  total  of  what  I've  got  to  show  for  it  is 
the  fever  and  a  couple  of  knife  scars  in  my  back — 
patriots  again,  one  Hindu,  one  Peruvian.  So  I 
think  I  had  better  go  home  and  begin  afresh — 
if  I  can."  And  he  gave  a  bitter  little  laugh. 

The  American  glanced  sharply  at  the  tall,  thin 
figure  and  haggard  face.  When  they  had  started 
out  that  morning  to  drive  the  saviours  of  their 
country  out  of  the  spirit  stores  they  were  looting, 
Grierson  had  struck  him  as  a  keen  youngster  with 
a  rather  infectious  laugh,  and  his  appreciation  had 
been  increased  by  the  way  in  which  the  other  had 
dropped  a  running  insurgent  at  four  hundred 
yards'  range;  now,  however,  the  captain  found 
himself  wondering  whether,  after  all,  it  was  not 
too  late  for  his  companion  to  talk  of  beginning 
life  afresh. 

At  dinner  that  night  he  expressed  his  doubts 
to  the  Consul,  who  shook  his  head.  "  Locke, 
the  man  they  killed  to-day,  told  me  young  Grier- 
son had  been  through  a  pretty  rough  time, 
touched  rock  bottom.  He  was  going  into  the  Brit- 
ish Army,  but  had  to  throw  it  up,  and  went  out  to 
the  Orient  for  some  Company  which  failed  soon 
after,  leaving  him  stranded.  Since  then  every- 


viii  PROLOGUE 

thing  he  had  been  in  has  turned  out  wrong;  and 
now  this  has  gone.  .  .  .  Queer  how  some  men 
do  get  the  cards  dealt  them  that  way.  .  .  . 
He's  clever,  writes  very  well,  and  might  have 
done  something  at  it.  Locke's  death  will  be  an 
ugly  blow  to  him."  Being  a  kindly  man  and  none 
too  successful  himself,  he  sighed  in  sympathy, 
then  mixed  another  whisky  and  soda,  and  passed 
on  to  official  matters. 

A  little  later  Captain  Harben  harked  back  to 
the  former  question.  "  He's  got  plenty  of  pluck. 
He  was  all  there  when  it  came  to  a  fight.  I  like 
him." 

"So  do  I,"  the  other  answered,  ''only  I  guess 
pluck  of  that  sort  won't  help  him  much  in  Eng- 
land, and  you  know,  or  at  least  I  know,  that  a 
fellow  who's  knocked  about  a  lot  doesn't  suit  civil- 
isation, or  civilisation  doesn't  suit  him — put  it 
which  way  you  like,  the  result  is  the  same.  His 
nerves  go  under,  somehow,  and  it  ends  so,"  nod- 
ding towards  the  whisky  bottle. 

Meanwhile  Grierson  was  sitting  on  the  ve- 
randah of  his  dead  employer's  house  staring  out 
into  the  night,  and  trying  to  make  plans  for  the 
future. 

"Whatever  happens,  I  don't  mean  to  starve 
again,"  he  muttered. 


PEOPLE  OF  POSITION 


CHAPTER  I 

T\TRS.  MARLOW  flicked  a  crumb  off  her  dress 
•*-*-*•  with  rather  unnecessary  care.  "  I've  had  a 
most  annoying  letter  from  Jimmy  to-day.  It 
came  by  the  second  post,  after  Henry  had  gone 
to  the  City,  and  quite  upset  me.  His  employer, 
Mr.  Locke,  has  been  killed  in  some  disgraceful 
riot,  and  now  Jimmy  himself  is  coming  home. 
Of  course,  in  a  way,  I  shall  be  glad  to  see  him, 
and  so  will  the  rest  of  the  family;  but  I  know  he's 
got  no  money,  and  no  profession  to  fall  back 
upon,  and  I  cannot  see  what  he  is  going  to  do  for 
a  living.  If  I  asked  him  to  do  so,  I  have  no  doubt 
Henry  would  make  a  place  for  him  in  the  office; 
but  I  am  not  going  to  have  my  husband  burdened 
with  my  brother.  Henry  is  too  generous  as  it 
is;  and  the  Stock  Exchange  is  in  such  a  fearful 
state  now  that  it  is  difficult  to  make  a  bare  living." 
She  sighed  heavily,  and  glanced  round  the  expen- 
sively furnished  drawing-room,  as  if  wondering 
whether  that  abominable  tendency  towards  sus- 
picion on  the  part  of  the  public,  which  was  caus- 
ing it  to  eschew  all  sorts  of  speculation,  might 


2  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

not  result  in  her  losing  the  few  luxuries  she  did 
possess. 

Her  visitor,  Mrs.  Grimmer,  wife  of  the  junior 
partner  in  the  well-known  City  firm  of  Horna- 
day,  Grimes,  and  Grimmer,  dried  fruit  brokers, 
nodded  with  an  affectation  of  sympathy  which 
she  did  not  feel — the  Marlows  had  a  touring  car 
and  a  motor-brougham,  whilst  she  had  only  a 
one-horse  carriage — and  held  out  her  cup  to  be 
refilled.  She  had  known  her  hostess  for  a  good 
many  years,  over  thirty  in  fact,  ever  since  she 
and  May  Marlow,  who  was  then  May  Grierson 
and  had  thick  flaxen  plaits  tied  with  blue  ribbon, 
had  met  at  their  first  children's  party.  Walter 
Grierson,  the  eldest  of  the  family,  now  a  City 
solicitor,  had  been  eleven  at  that  time,  whilst 
May  had  been  seven  and  Ida  five;  but  Jimmy 
had  not  arrived  until  three  summers  later. 

Both  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Grierson  belonged  to  emi- 
nently solid  families,  whose  forebears  for  gener- 
ations had  looked  to  the  City  for  their  living.  To 
them,  the  Square  Mile  stood  for  Respectability, 
just  as  the  West  End  typified  Laxity  and  Luxury; 
whilst  outside  these  limits  there  was  nothing  but 
the  Lower  Classes.  They  ignored  the  Underworld, 
possibly  because  they  knew  nothing  of  it,  more 
likely  because  it  had  no  place  in  their  Scheme  of 
Things,  the  two  main  articles  of  their  creed  being 


PEOPLE  OF    POSITION  3 

that  every  man  must  choose  an  occupation  early 
and  abide  by  his  choice,  and  that  every  good  wo- 
man must  stay  at  home.  The  logical  result  of 
these  Grierson  ancestors  and  their  kind  was  the 
Victorian  age,  the  exaltation  of  the  Supremely 
Bad  in  Art  and  the  Supremely  Proper  in  man- 
kind. Mrs.  Grierson  had  been  Victorian  in  the 
fullest  sense  of  the  word,  and  she  had  lived  and 
died  with  all  her  principles  intact,  believing  in 
the  Evangelical  Church,  the  respectability  of 
wealth,  and  the  evil  tendencies  of  modern  thought. 
On  the  other  hand,  some  alien  strain  had  crept 
into  Mr.  Grierson,  and  he  had  not  accepted  the 
family  traditions  in  their  entirety;  in  fact,  both 
his  own  relatives  and  those  of  his  wife  had  found 
much  to  criticise  in  his  ideas.  Had  he  been  able 
to  shake  himself  free  of  the  family,  he  would  have 
liked  nothing  better  than  to  possess  a  ranch  in 
America  or  a  sheep  station  in  New  South  Wales. 
All  his  life,  he  longed,  in  secret,  for  open  air, 
and  freedom,  and  the  society  of  men  whose  inter- 
ests did  not  stop  at  Temple  Bar;  but,  in  the  end, 
Fate,  in  the  form  of  a  business  bequeathed  him 
by  his  father,  sent  him  to  the  City,  and  he  reso- 
lutely put  his  dreams  on  one  side.  The  inevitable 
happened.  He  was  essentially  an  honourable 
man,  and,  not  understanding  the  meaning  of 
Commercial  Morality,  he  imagined  that  other 


4  PEOPLE    OF   POSITION 

men  in  the  City  were  the  same;  consequently,  he 
met  the  fate  of  he  who  of  old  went  down  from 
Jerusalem  to  Jericho,  though  there  was  no  Sa- 
maritan to  sympathise;  rather  otherwise,  in  fact, 
for  his  fellows  shook  their  heads  scornfully  over 
his  failure,  whilst  admiring  the  business  capacity 
of  those  into  whose  hands  his  capital  had  passed. 
The  process  of  Mr.  Grierson's  ruin  had  been 
a  comparatively  slow  one,  the  law  requiring  cer- 
tain decencies  to  be  observed  in  these  matters;  and 
his  wife  was  dead,  and  his  three  elder  children 
grown  up  and  married,  before  the  day  when  he 
discovered  his  own  ruin,  and  took  the  quickest 
way  out  of  the  troubles  of  this  world.  He  was 
mad,  of  course;  everyone  agreed  on  that  point: 
not  the  least  of  the  proofs  being  the  fact  that  the 
only  message  he  left  was  a  letter  for  Jimmy,  who 
was  then  at  Sandhurst.  The  coroner  had  read 
the  letter,  and  handed  it  back  with  a  remark  that 
it  had  no  bearing  whatsoever  on  the  case;  but  no 
one  else  had  seen  it,  nor  had  Jimmy  given  a  hint 
of  its  contents  to  any  of  the  family.  It  concerned 
him  alone,  he  said.  He  would  have  to  leave  Sand- 
hurst now  and  wanted  to  go  abroad,  and  the 
others  let  him  go,  if  not  gladly,  at  least  without 
any  great  regrets.  They  were  all  provided  for 
Walter  was  partner  in  a  growing  firm  of  solic- 
itors; May  had  married  Henry  Marlow,  a  stock- 


PEOPLE   OF    POSITION  5 

broker;  whilst  Ida's  husband  was,  if  not  actually 
in  the  City,  at  least  very  respectable,  being  a 
Northampton  boot  factor.  They  were  very  fond 
of  Jimmy,  genuinely  fond  of  him,  both  from  the 
purely  correct  point  of  view,  as  being  their 
brother,  and  for  his  own  happy  disposition;  but, 
none  the  less,  there  had  always  been  a  certain 
jealousy  of  their  father's  evident  preference  for 
him,  a  jealousy  mingled  with  surprise,  or  even 
resentment,  Jimmy  being  essentially  unpractical, 
and  almost  unconventional.  Moreover,  they  had 
never  liked  the  idea  of  his  going  to  Sandhurst. 
None  of  the  family  had  been  in  the  Service  be- 
fore; and  it  was  a  matter  of  common  knowledge 
that  no  man  could  make  financial  headway  in  the 
Army.  So,  when,  through  Mr.  Marlow's  influ- 
ence, the  boy  obtained  a  billet  in  China,  the  family 
heaved  sighs  of  relief,  and  though,  throughout 
the  next  ten  years,  his  sisters  kept  up  as  regular  a 
correspondence  as  his  wanderings  allowed,  their 
home  concerns  and  increasing  families  inevitably 
weakened  their  interest  in  him.  They  had  their 
own  circles,  in  which  he  had  no  part,  though,  on 
the  other  hand,  when  he  did  think  of  England, 
which  was  often  during  those  years  of  hardship 
and  disappointment,  Jimmy  always  looked  on  them 
as  essentially  his  own  people,  to  whom,  one  day, 
he  would  return,  having  no  one  else.  .  .  . 


6  PEOPLE    OF   POSITION 

Mrs.  Grimmer  sipped  her  tea  slowly,  and  asked 
for  further  particulars  concerning  the  absent  wan- 
derer. 

"  Does  he  say  what  he  proposes  to  do?  " 

Mrs.  Marlow  shook  her  head.  "  No,  only 
that  he's  sick  of  knocking  about,  and  thinks  he 
will  try  his  luck  at  home.  It's  very  selfish  of  him, 
because  he  has  never  been  a  credit  to  us;  and, 
of  course,  naturally,  everyone  will  know  he's  our 
brother." 

"  What  has  he  done  that  wasn't — wasn't  quite 
the  thing?  "  the  visitor  asked. 

Mrs.  Marlow  looked  a  little  puzzled.  "  Well, 
I  don't  know  that  there's  anything,  exactly — at 
least  that  way.  Only,  Luke  Chapman  and  her 
husband  met  him  in  Calcutta  three  years  ago — 
Mr.  Chapman  has  a  branch  there,  you  know — 
and  Luke  told  me  that  he  was  doing  nothing, 
and  living  at  a  queer  sort  of  hotel,  where  ships' 
officers  and  those  sort  of  people  stay,  not  at  all 
the  thing.  Then,  you  see,  he's  done  no  good. 
He's  just  as  poor  as  when  he  went  out  ten  years 
ago." 

"  So  he's  done  no  harm  and  no  good.  Then 
you  can  keep  an  open  mind  about  him,  May. 
Meanwhile,  if  I  were  you,  I  should  try  and  find 
him  a  wife  with  money.  He's  sure  to  be 
interesting,  you  know.  Men  who  travel  usually 


PEOPLE  OF   POSITION  7 

are.  Let  me  know  when  he  comes  back,  as  I 
should  like  to  meet  him  again.  Well,  good-bye, 
dear,  and  don't  worry  too  much  about  your  black 
sheep.  The  colour  may  come  off,  or  you  may  be 
able  to  get  him  whitewashed." 

"  Edith  Grimmer  was  very  flippant  about  it," 
Mrs.  Marlow  complained  to  her  husband  that 
evening,  after  she  had  shown  him  Jimmy's  letter 
and  had  heard  his  remarks  thereon.  "  I  didn't 
like  her  tone  at  all.  She  has  grown  rather  coarse 
lately,  since  they  have  got  into  that  new  set.  They 
dine  in  town  a  good  deal  now,  and  I'm  sure  they 
can't  afford  it.  She's  taken  to  smoking  cigarettes, 
too." 

Her  husband,  a  small  man  with  a  waxed  mous- 
tache and  the  most  perfect  fitting  clothes, 
frowned  heavily.  There  had  been  girls,  in  fact 
there  were  still  some,  who  might  blow  whole  clouds 
of  cigarette  smoke  in  his  face  and  only  evoke  a 
laugh  from  him ;  but  they  had  nothing  to  do  with 
his  home  life.  Where  the  latter  was  concerned, 
he  was  very  careful;  and  he  fully  agreed  with 
May's  prejudices.  Such  things  injured  one's  posi- 
tion in  the  neighbourhood.  "  Edith  is  a  very  fool- 
ish woman,"  he  said  severely.  "And  Grimmer  is 
little  more  sensible.  He  was  talking  a  great  deal 
of  nonsense  about  South  African  mines  when  we 
were  coming  down  in  the  train  this  evening. 


8  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

Crossley  and  Merchant  were  in  the  carriage,  and 
I  am  sure  they  were  pleased  when  I  took  him  up 
sharply.  I  do  not  know  whether  he  is  aware  that 
I  was  interested  in  the  promotion  of  the  Umcha- 
beze  Gold  Dredging  Syndicate;  if  so,  his  remarks 
were  positively  insulting.  It  seems  he  lost  money 
over  it.  So  did  other  people;  but  I  can't  help 
that."  He  threw  his  cigar  end  into  the  fire  with 
a  rather  vicious  gesture. 

His  wife  came  across  to  his  chair,  put  her  hands 
on  his  shoulders,  and  kissed  him  gently  on  the  fore- 
head. "  Never  mind,  dear.  You  mustn't  let 
these  silly  people  annoy  you.  I'm  sorry  now  I 
worried  you  to-night  about  my  brother,  Jimmy. 
I  might  have  left  it  until  the  morning,  when  you 
weren't  tired." 

He  drew  her  face  down  to  his  and  returned  her 
kiss.  She  was  perfectly  content  for  him  to  be  away 
all  day,  even  for  several  days  when  he  went  golf- 
ing, and  he  was  content  to  go;  yet,  in  a  sense, 
they  were  lovers  still,  after  the  fashion  of  those 
whose  way  through  life  Has  been  easy. 

"You  were  quite  right  to  mention  it,  dear,"  he 
said.  "  Of  course  we  must  do  what  we  can  for 
him,  have  him  to  stay  here  when  he  lands,  and  so 
on.  I  daresay  he  will  be  quite  presentable,  after 
all.  Why,  a  man  I  know  at  the  club,  Heydon, 
Amos  Heydon,  was  in  the  East  for  twelve  years, 


PEOPLE  OF   POSITION  9 

in  a  bank  I  think,  and  you  would  never  imagine 
he  had  been  out  of  the  City.  He's  got  all  our 
ways." 

Mrs.  Marlow  sighed.  "  I  hope  you're  right, 
Henry.  You  usually  are,  and  you've  had  so  much 
experience.  But  I  wish  we  knew  what  he  intended 
to  do  for  a  living.  He  is  thirty  now,  or  nearly 
that,  and  ought  to  be  in  a  better  position.  The 
whole  thing  is  most  annoying.  I  must  take  care 
he  does  not  tell  the  children  stories  which  will 
make  them  dream  at  nights — Harold  is  sure  to 
ask  him  for  some,  and  you  know  what  a  memory 
the  boy  has.  Then,  too,  we  don't  want  Jimmy 
proposing  to  any  of  the  nice  girls  we  know,  like 
Laura  Stephens  or  May  Cutler;  for  then  we 
should  have  to  confess  that  he  had  no  means  of 
any  sort,  and  it  would  be  horribly  humiliating. 
See  how  well  those  young  Cutlers  have  got  on  in 
their  father's  office.  Of  course,  Edith  Grimmer 
knows  that  Jimmy  is  a  failure;  but  she  won't 
talk  about  it." 

Yet,  at  that  very  moment,  Mrs.  Grimmer  was 
retailing  the  story  of  May's  troubles  to  her  hus- 
band and  a  couple  of  guests  who  had  been  dining 
with  them. 

'  Jimmy  always  was  a  nice  boy,  not  a  bit  of 
a  prig.  But  he's  not  what  you  can  call  a  success; 
and  I  fancy  the  Marlows  won't  want  to  exhibit 


io  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

him.     Still,  I  shall  have  him  to  dinner  and  get 
some  nice  girls  to  meet  him." 

Grimmer  laughed.  He  had  not  forgotten 
what  had  passed  between  Marlow  and  himself  in 
the  train,  and  he  was  far  from  forgiving  his  loss 
over  the  gold  dredging  syndicate.  "  Have  him 
by  all  means,  Edith,  if  you  think  it  will  annoy 
those  people.  Besides,  a  Grierson  who  was  inter- 
esting would  be  quite  a  show  animal." 


CHAPTER  II 

JIMMY  GRIERSON  landed  in  England  a 
broken  man.  What  was  almost  worse,  he  was 
aware  of  the  fact,  and,  whilst  he  resented  the  way 
in  which  Fate  had  dealt  with  him,  he  had  no  great 
hopes  of  altering  things.  He  had  drifted  so  long 
that,  somehow,  he  supposed  he  must  go  on  drifting. 
John  Locke  had  stopped  the  process  for  a  time, 
and  given  him  something  to  stick  to,  something 
worth  doing;  but  a  bullet  from  an  old  Reming- 
ton in  the  hands  of  a  ragged  Dago,  a  bullet  prob- 
ably aimed  at  someone  else,  had  sent  him  adrift 
again.  True,  that  same  Dago  had  gone,  a  few 
seconds  later,  to  whatever  place  there  is  reserved 
for  his  kind;  but  that  did  not  alter  matters;  it 
avenged,  perhaps,  but  it  could  not  bring  back, 
the  one  man  besides  his  father  for  whom  Jimmy 
had  ever  cared,  who  had  ever  understood  him, 
and,  therefore,  been  able  to  keep  him  from  drift- 
ing. 

His  decision  to  return  to  England  had  been 
taken  on  the  spur  of  the  moment,  without  reflec- 
tion; but  he  held  to  it,  because  no  other  course 
seemed  to  offer  any  better  prospects.  He  knew, 

ii 


12  PEOPLE    OF   POSITION 

perfectly  well,  that  Locke's  partner  would  not 
want  to  keep  him  on,  and  he  shrank  from  the 
ordeal  of  searching  for  employment  again.  He 
had  been  through  it  so  often  before;  and  he  had 
learnt,  long  since,  that  the  man  on  the  spot  only 
gets  the  temporary  billets;  the  permanent  staff  is  al- 
ways recruited  at  home.  Moreover,  he  had  the 
fevers  of  half  a  dozen  different  countries  in  his 
system,  and  the  shock  of  Locke's  death  brought 
at  least  one  of  them  to  the  surface.  Two  Dagos 
helped  him  on  board  ship,  a  wreck,  and  though, 
physically,  he  was  much  stronger  at  the  end  of  the 
voyage,  his  nerves  were  far  from  being  right. 

London  extended  its  welcome  to  him  in  the 
form  of  a  drenching  rain,  and  he  shivered  a  little 
under  the  thin,  ready-made  overcoat  he  had 
bought  from  a  German  store  on  the  Coast. 

He  had  hoped  that  one  of  the  family  would 
have  met  the  boat  train,  and  carried  him  off  to  a 
real  home;  but,  though  there  had  been  a  welcom- 
ing hand  for  most  of  his  fellow  passengers,  he, 
himself,  scanned  the  crowd  in  vain  for  a  familiar 
face.  Even  those  who  had  come  across  the  ocean 
with  him  seemed  to  forget  him  the  moment  they 
got  out  on  to  the  platform.  He  became  the 
stranger  at  once;  so  he  stood  to  one  side  until 
they  had  all  departed,  feeling  horribly  alone. 
Still,  he  was  home  at  last,  in  his  own  country, 


PEOPLE   OF    POSITION  13 

and  he  tried  to  work  up  a  proper  sense  of  elation 
as  he  waited  in  the  station  entrance,  watching  a 
porter  hoisting  his  battered  trunks  on  to  a  cab. 

It  was  already  evening,  and  the  stream  of 
people  was  flowing  inwards  through  the  gates  of 
the  terminus,  London's  workers  returning  to 
those  dreary  rows  of  villas  in  the  suburbs,  which, 
probably,  seemed  delightfully  peaceful,  almost 
rural,  by  comparison  with  the  noise  and  grime 
of  the  City.  Some  were  closing  dripping  um- 
brellas; others,  having  no  umbrellas,  shook  the 
rain  out  of  the  brims  of  their  hats,  and  turned 
down  their  soaking  coat-collars  as  they  came 
under  shelter.  All  looked  more  or  less  draggled 
and  weary;  yet  you  could  see  that  they  were  on 
their  way  to  their  own  houses,  where  there  would 
be  someone  to  welcome  them,  someone  who  had 
been  waiting  for  them.  Suddenly  all  Jimmy's 
sense  of  loneliness  came  back,  and  he  shivered 
again  as  the  cab  splashed  out  of  the  muddy  sta- 
tion yard,  towards  the  hotel  to  which  he  had 
told  his  people  to  address  their  letters. 

There  was  a  letter  from  each  of  his  sisters 
awaiting  him,  and  he  tore  them  open  more 
eagerly  than  was  his  wont.  Ida,  writing  from 
her  home  in  Northampton,  invited  him  to  come 
down  for  a  week  at  some  vague  future  date;  one 
of  the  children  was  unwell,  and  until  it  recovered 


i4  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

it  was  impossible  to  fix  a  day.  Still,  they  would 
be  delighted  to  see  him  again.  Her  letters 
always  had  a  note  of  stiffness  in  them,  which  was 
purely  unintentional,  or1  rather,  purely  natural, 
reflecting  the  one  salient  point  in  her  character. 

May's  letter  began  with  an  apology.  They 
were  so  sorry  they  could  not  ask  him  down  that 
night;  but  they  had  a  large  dinner  party  on, 
and  he  would  have  made  an  odd  man.  Doubt- 
less, too,  he  would  be  tired  after  his  journey  and 
disinclined  for  such  a  function.  The  following 
day,  however,  they  would  be  glad  to  have  him. 
It  was  forty  minutes'  run  from  Victoria  Station, 
and  she  would  send  the  car  to  meet  him  at  the 
other  end. 

Jimmy  thrust  the  letters  into  his  pocket,  and 
followed  his  luggage  up  to  his  room,  which  was 
a  perfect  example  of  its  kind,  containing  the 
irreducible  minimum  of  furniture  an  hotel  guest 
could  require,  and  having,  as  its  sole  wall  decora- 
tion, a  notice  imploring  you  to  switch  out  the  elec- 
tric light  when  you  did  not  actually  require  it. 
He  was  disappointed,  though  not  annoyed.  The 
excuses  appeared  genuine,  if  rather  inadequate, 
and  he  never  suspected  that  May  had  spent  the 
afternoon  in  a  distressing  state  of  anxiety  lest  he 
should  change  his  mind,  and,  instead  of  going  to 
the  hotel,  come  straight  down  in  time  for  dinner. 


PEOPLE   OF    POSITION  15 

"  There  is  no  telling  what  he  may  be  like," 
she  said  to  her  sister-in-law,  who  was  staying  in 
the  house.  "  We  must  see  him  first  before  we 
introduce  him  to  people  here.  Why,  he  may  not 
even  possess  a  dress  suit." 

Jimmy  dined  in  the  hotel.  The  dining-room 
was  very  empty,  and  he  had  a  corner  of  it  all  to 
himself,  a  miserable  contrast  to  the  cheerful, 
crowded  saloon  of  the  mail  steamer  he  had  quitted 
that  morning.  He  ate  very  little,  and  would  not 
wait  for  coffee.  He  felt  he  must  get  outside  that 
gloomy  barn  of  a  hostelry,  must  go  where  there 
was  life  and  movement,  and,  if  he  could  find  it, 
society. 

The  rain  had  ceased,  and,  as  he  came  out  of 
the  dull  side  street  into  the  Strand,  he  experi- 
enced for  the  first  time  that  strange  thrill,  excite- 
ment, anticipation,  almost  exhilaration,  which 
only  the  returned  wanderer  who  comes  back  to 
the  Greatest  of  Cities  after  years  of  absence,  can 
know.  When  he  had  driven  up  to  the  hotel,  the 
day  population  had  been  hurrying  home  through 
the  downpour;  now,  though  the  street  and  the 
pavements  were  still  glistening  with  the  wet,  and 
there  was  another  deluge  to  come,  London,  the 
night  side  of  London,  was  out  as  if  there  was  no 
such  things  as  rain  and  mud  and  sodden  footwear. 

Jimmy  stood  a  couple  of  minutes,  watching  it, 


1 6  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

taking  it  all  in,  as  though  he  had  never  seen  it 
before.  A  policeman  on  point  duty  eyed  him 
curiously,  yet  with  no  hint  of  suspicion.  Most 
men,  and  practically  every  woman,  remembered 
Jimmy's  face  when  they  met  him  a  second  time. 
He  was  not  handsome,  far  from  it;  but,  in  some 
indefinable  way,  his  grey  eyes  suggested  sympathy, 
whilst  the  poise  of  his  head  spoke  of  determina- 
tion verging  on  obstinacy. 

He  was  looking  at  the  scene  as  a  whole,  rather 
than  at  individuals,  and  the  policeman  remarked, 
with  a  kind  of  grim  satisfaction,  that  he  let  the 
women  pass  him  unnoticed.  Even  when  one 
turned  back  at  the  next  corner  and  repassed  him 
slowly,  he  seemed  not  to  see  her.  Just  as  he  was 
turning  away,  however,  a  girl's  face  did  catch  his 
eye,  and,  unconsciously,  he  stopped  again.  She 
was  coming  out  of  a  restaurant  a  few  yards  away, 
accompanied  by  a  man  in  evening  dress,  though  she 
herself  was  in  an  ordinary  walking  costume.  Tall 
and  very  graceful,  with  dark  eyes  and  a  perfect 
profile,  she  formed  a  curious  contrast  to  her  short 
and  rather  stout  companion.  It  was  only  a  question 
of  a  minute  before  they  had  got  into  a  waiting 
hansom  and  driven  away;  but,  somehow,  the  inci- 
dent worried  Jimmy.  He  wondered  who  she  was, 
what  she  was,  and  was  so  preoccupied  with  her  that 
as  he  walked  on  eastwards,  he  hardly  noticed  that 


PEOPLE   OF    POSITION  17 

he  left  the  Strand,  with  its  life  and  hurry,  for 
the  comparative  quietude  of  Fleet  Street  by  night. 
He  had  come  out  of  the  hotel  intending  to  have  a 
drink  at  the  first  likely-looking  bar  he  came  to; 
but  he  was  half-way  between  the  Griffin  and  Lud- 
gate  Circus  before  he  remembered  he  was  thirsty. 

"  Hullo,  Grierson,  my  best  of  piracy  experts. 
So  you've  come  to  Fleet  Street  at  last,  as  I  always 
said  you  would.  Sneddon,  let  me  introduce  Mr. 
Grierson,  an  old  colleague  of  mine  on  a  short-lived 
paper  in  Shanghai.  He  knows  more  Chinese  pi- 
rates than  any  man  I  ever  met,  not  to  mention  gun- 
runners and  opium  smugglers;  and  he's  perfectly 
invaluable  to  fill  a  column  when  the  news  has  run 
short."  The  speaker,  a  man  of  about  Jimmy's 
own  age,  with  a  keen,  smooth-shaven  face  and 
restless  eyes,  shook  hands  heartily,  and  ordered 
another  round  of  drinks. 

At  the  sound  of  his  voice,  Jimmy's  face  lit  up 
with  genuine  pleasure.  He  had  known  Douglas 
Kelly  well  on  the  China  Coast,  when  the  other  was 
editing  a  local  paper  for  a  starvation  wage,  and, 
as  Kelly  said,  he  had  written  him  many  a  column 
to  fill  up  space  with  when  both  copy  and  adver- 
tisements were  short.  The  British  and  American 
community,  being  absorbed  in  trade,  and  know- 
ing nothing  of  literature,  and  often  very  little  of 
the  English  language,  as  is  the  way  of  its  kind, 


1 8  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

had  failed  to  see  the  genius  under  the  wild  and  not 
too  temperate  exterior,  and  had  frowned  on  the 
young  editor  as  a  rather  scandalous  person  en- 
tirely devoid  of  commercial  instincts;  but  Jimmy 
had  always  stood  by  him,  and  when  a  sudden  ac- 
cess of  wealth,  in  the  form  of  a  draft  for  sixty 
pounds  for  a  series  of  short  stories  in  an  American 
magazine,  had  enabled  Kelly  to  say  good-bye  both 
to  the  China  Coast  and  to  his  creditors,  Grierson 
has  regretted  him  as  much,  or  even  more,  than 
had  the  latter. 

"  So  you've  come  to  Fleet  Street,  at  last,"  Kelly 
repeated.  "  I  knew  you  would.  And  I  suppose 
you  are  going  to  enter  into  competition  with  me. 
I  believe  you  are  the  one  man  of  whom  I  am  really 
afraid." 

Jimmy  laughed.  "  I  only  landed  to-day,  and  I 
wandered  down  here  by  chance.  As  for  writing, 
I  have  done  very  little  since  I  saw  you  off  on  that 
tramp  steamer.  There  were  two  or  three  ac- 
quaintances of  yours  watching  the  mail  boat  next 
day  on  the  chance  of  finding  you." 

"  Herbst,  I  suppose,  and  the  other  squarehead 
from  the  hotel — what  was  his  name? — oh,  Heine, 
and  that  uncleanly  Greek  tailor.  They  were  a  dull 
lot,  and  I've  forgotten  them  long  ago.  Tell  me 
about  yourself.  Where  have  you  been?" 

"  India,    Australia,    and   the    Dago    Republics, 


PEOPLE   OF    POSITION  19 

where  I  saw  the  beginning  and  the  end  of  various 
presidents.  I  made  a  couple  of  trips  on  a  blockade 
runner,  and  went  on  a  hidden  treasure  hunt.  It 
sounds  all  right,  thrilling  and  exciting,  yet,  when 
I  size  it  up  in  my  own  mind,  it  comes  down  to  a 
record  of  fever  and  disappointment;  with  a  few 
purple  patches  which  were  so  good  that,  somehow, 
they  seem  to  have  come  out  of  another  man's  book, 
instead  of  being  my  own  experiences." 

Kelly  stared  into  his  glass.  "  I  know,"  he  said 
very  quietly.  "  I  know  the  game,  though  I  got 
out  of  it  sooner  than  you  did,  being  wiser,  as  I  al- 
ways told  you  I  was.  I  suppose  you  know  I'm 
famous?  " 

Jimmy  smiled;  long  ago,  Douglas  Kelly  had  ex- 
plained to  him  his  theory  of  self-advertisement, 
how,  once  he  was  strong  enough  to  do  so,  he  in- 
tended to  go  in  for  a  regular  system  of  blatant, 
unblushing  egotism,  which  would  pay  equally  little 
regard  to  the  feelings  of  others  and  to  the  recog- 
nised canons  of  veracity.  Now,  it  was  evident 
that  he  was  translating  his  theory  into  practice. 

"  Even  in  the  Dago  countries  we  used  to  get 
papers  containing  articles  of  yours,"  Jimmy  said. 
"And  I  saw  a  review  of  one  of  your  books. 
Did  you  put  some  of  our  old  friends  of  the  China 
Coast  into  them?" 

Douglas   Kelly   shook  his   head    emphatically. 


20  PEOPLE    OF   POSITION 

"  They  weren't  even  worth  satirising.  They 
might  take  it  as  flattery  if  I  remembered  their 
very  existence.  .  .  .  I've  done  what  I  said  I 
would,  Grierson.  I'm  making  a  thousand  a  year 
now."  He  turned  to  his  companion.  "  Sneddon, 
you  might  go  back  to  the  office,  and  see  if  there's 
anything  doing.  If  anyone  wants  me,  say  I'm 
busy  " ;  then  when  the  other  had  gone,  "  How  are 
things  with  you,  Jimmy?"  he  asked  bluntly. 

Jimmy  laughed  a  little  awkwardly.  "  Well,  they 
shot  my  last  employer,  who  was  also  my  best 
friend,  out  there;  and  I  came  home  because  I 
thought  it  might  change  the  luck." 

"So  you're  broke,  just  as  I  used  to  be?" 

"  No,  not  exactly.  I've  got  a  few  pounds  left; 
but  I've  nothing  to  do,  and  I  don't  know  what  to 
turn  my  hand  to — that's  all,"  Jimmy  answered, 
then  as  Kelly  dived  into  his  pocket  and  produced  a 
cheque  book,  he  flushed  quickly,  "  No,  old  man. 
If  I  want  that,  I'll  come  to  you;  but  I  don't  want 
it  yet.  Thanks  very  much,  though." 

Kelly  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  You're  quite  a 
change.  It's  generally  the  other  way  round.  Men 
ask  me  for  mo.ney,  and  I  do  the  refusing."  Usu- 
ally, his  expression  was  hard,  almost  cynical,  but 
as  he  looked  at  Jimmy  it  softened,  and  he  seemed 
to  grow  years  younger.  He  was  back  again  on 
the  China  Coast,  in  the  days  when  success  was 


PEOPLE   OF   POSITION  21 

a  thing  of  the  future,  and  therefore  greatly  to  be 
prized.  '  You'll  do  well,  Grierson,  you've  got  it 
in  you,  just  as  I  had.  And,  after  all,  London  is 
the  one  place,  the  only  market  worth  bringing  your 
stuff  to." 

"  I  will  admit  I  had  thought  of  writing,  but 

I  know  how  hard  it  is  to  get  a  start,  and " 

Jimmy  began ;  but  Kelly  cut  him  short. 

"  Rot!  It's  hard  for  the  ruck,  for  the  ninety 
and  nine,  who,  after  all,  ought  to  find  it  impos- 
sible, not  merely  hard.  But  it's  different  for  you 
and  me,  Jimmy  Grierson,  because  we're  not  in  the 
ruck.  Of  course  you'll  write,  for  it's  in  you,  and 
you  would  be  a  fool  to  try  anything  else.  You 
won't  jump  into  a  job  right  away;  and  you'll  have 
to  fight  as  I  fought.  I  started  as  a  sub-editor  on 
three  pounds  a  week,  correcting  the  grammar  in 
the  copy  of  men  who  were  getting  five  times  that 
amount — but  I  can  get  you  a  start  of  sorts,  right 
away.  Come  around  now  to  the  Record  office,  and 
I'll  introduce  you  to  Dodgson,  the  editor,  a  per- 
fectly uninspired  person,  who  ought  to  have  been  a 
grocer's  assistant  and  have  sung  in  a  chapel  choir. 
But  he  has  the  grace  to  realise  his  limitations,  and 
take  my  advice.  It  will  mean  two  guineas  every 
now  and  then  for  a  Page  Four  article — a  thousand 
words,  you  know." 

Jimmy  finished  off  his  drink  and  stood  up.     He 


22  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

was  beginning  to  understand  that,  after  all,  there 
was  an  element  of  sane,  cool  common  sense  behind 
Kelly's  blatant  self-assertiveness.  It  might  irri- 
tate what  the  other  called  the  "  ruck,"  but  it  also 
cowed  them,  and  they  got  out  of  his  path;  more- 
over, there  was  always  the  undeniable  fact  that  the 
man  had  genius  of  no  common  order..  Jimmy 
had  been  perfectly  sincere  when  he  said  he  had 
not  come  home  intending  to  make  his  living  by 
his  pen.  He  had  thought  of  doing  so,  certainly, 
or  rather  had  longed  to  do  so ;  but,  like  most  ama- 
teurs, he  had  been  deterred  by  what  he  had  heard 
of  the  difficulties,  and  had  put  the  idea  on  one 
side.  Now,  however,  the  proposition  had  come 
to  him  in  a  concrete  form,  from  a  man  who  had 
succeeded,  a  man,  moreover,  who  knew  his  capac- 
ity, and  was  able  to  judge  his  prospects  of  success. 
After  all,  it  was  only  part  of  that  game  of  drift 
which  he  had  been  playing  for  the  last  ten  years; 
and  the  new  phase  had  this  advantage — he  might 
be  able  to  make  use  of  what  he  had  learned  during 
the  previous  stages  of  his  drifting.  So  he  fol- 
lowed Douglas  Kelly  out  into  Fleet  Street,  then 
down  one  of  the  narrow  alleys,  to  the  Herald 
office. 

The  main  entrance  to  the  Record  building,  that 
through  which  the  general  public  enters,  when  it 
wishes  to  pay  for  advertisements,  or  consult  the 


PEOPLE  OF   POSITION  23 

files,  or  order  back  numbers,  has  a  rather  gor- 
geous swing  door  and  a  quite  gorgeous  door-keeper 
in  uniform  with  no  less  than  four  medal  ribbons 
on  his  breast;  but  all  this  is  closed  in  by  an  iron 
grille  when  normal  people  leave  the  City,  and  the 
staff  has  to  enter  through  a  small  door  at  the 
back,  which  is  guarded  by  an  old  and  surly  porter, 
over  the  window  of  whose  box  hangs  a  peremptory 
and  uncleanly  notice  forbidding  anyone  to  smoke 
in  the  building. 

Douglas  Kelly  ignored  both  the  porter  and  the 
notice,  and  went  straight  up  to  the  second  floor, 
where,  after  a  moment's  parley  with  a  weary-look- 
ing secretary,  he  and  Jimmy  were  admitted  to 
the  editor's  room. 

Somehow,  Jimmy  had  always  pictured  the  editor 
of  a  great  daily  as  a  plethoric  person  with  keen 
eyes,  and  a  background  of  leather-bound  volumes; 
but  this  one  was  thin  and  insignificant;  there  was 
not  a  single  book  in  his  room,  and,  at  the  first 
glance,  Jimmy  was  inclined  to  believe  that  his 
friend  had  been  right  when  he  spoke  of  the  editor 
singing  in  a  chapel  choir.  Yet,  after  Kelly  had 
introduced  him  briefly,  as  an  old  colleague,  and 
Dodgson  had  put  a  few  curt  questions,  Grierson 
began  to  change  his  mind. 

Jimmy  could  talk  well.  He  had,  in  an  unusual 
degree,  the  art  of  putting  things  vividly  and 


24  PEOPLE    OF   POSITION 

crisply,  and  he  possessed  an  extraordinary  memory 
for  those  little  details  which  give  actuality  to  the 
picture.  When  he  described  the  shooting  of  a 
presidential  candidate,  Dodgson  could  see  the  man 
with  his  grimy  hands  and  torn  collar,  crumpling 
up  as  the  volley  from  the  firing  party  caught  him. 
The  editor  himself  had  never  come  in  contact  with 
crude  realities  such  as  this — a  London  County 
Councillor  escaping  by  a  hair's  breadth  from  a 
fully-deserved  conviction  for  corruption  over  a 
tramway  contract  was  the  nearest  approach  he 
had  witnessed — but  he  understood  the  value  of 
Jimmy's  reminiscences,  and,  without  a  moment's 
hesitation,  he  asked  him  for  an  article,  hinting 
plainly  that,  if  the  written  matter  were  as  good  as 
his  spoken  words,  the  paper  would  be  glad  of 
many  others. 

Jimmy  left  the  room  with  an  unwonted  sense 
of  elation.  Kelly  had  withdrawn  immediately  he 
had  introduced  his  friend,  but  he  was  waiting  in 
the  doorway.  "Well,  what  did  you  do?"  he 
asked. 

"  He's  going  to  give  me  a  chance,"  Jimmy  an- 
swered. Kelly  nodded.  "  Of  course  he  will.  He 
must.  I  introduced  you.  Don't  you  realise, 
James  Grierson,  that  I  am  a  man  they  dare  not 
offend,  because  the  great  fool-public  wants  stuff 
with  my  signature;  and,  if  the  Record  upset  me, 


PEOPLE   OF    POSITION  25 

I  could  go  across  the  road  to  the  Herald  and,  per- 
haps, get  a  bigger  salary?  It's  all  a  game  of  bluff, 
as  I  told  you  years  ago  in  that  fan-tan  shop  in 
Shanghai.  I  know  you  won't  bluff  through  as  I 
have  done,  because  you  have  a  streak  of — what 
shall  I  call  it? — early  Victorian  modesty,  in  you; 
but  still  you  will  come  out  on  top,  because  you've 
got  brains,  instead  of  the  whisky-soaked  sponge 
which  occupies  the  space  behind  the  brow  of  the 
average  Fleet  Street  man." 

"  I  shouldn't  think  you're  very  popular  in  Fleet 
Street,"  Jimmy  remarked  grimly. 

Douglas  Kelly  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  The 
ruck  would  dislike  me  anyway,  because  I  know 
more  than  it  does.  Still,  it  need  not  worry.  I 
am  going  to  quit  journalism,  and  go  in  for  fiction 
soon,  as  you  will  do  in  due  course.  .  .  .  What's 
the  time?"  They  had  come  out  into  Fleet  Street 
again,  and  he  glanced  upwards  at  the  Telegraph's 
clock.  "  Half-past  ten.  It's  too  late  to  take  you 
down  to  stay  at  my  place,  as  I  can't  telephone  to 
my  wife.  So  I  may  as  well  stay  in  town.  We'll 
wander  round  a  bit,  and  after  closing  time,  I'll  take 
you  up  to  one  of  my  clubs." 

"Your  wife.  So  you're  married?"  Jimmy 
smiled,  as  though  at  some  recollection.  "  You 
seem  to  have  done  pretty  well  all  round;  whilst 
I  am  still  where  I  was." 


26  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

The  other  took  him  up  sharply,  "  Still  where 
you  were.  Why,  you've  got  your  head  full  of  copy, 
and  you're  right  at  your  market,  instead  of  being 
on  that  forsaken  China  Coast.  Well,  let's  have 
a  drink  here  for  a  start." 


CHAPTER  III 

I"  IMMY  awoke  in  the  morning  with  a  slight 
^  headache,  and  a  fixed  determination  not  to 
go  out  again  with  Douglas  Kelly.  True,  it  had 
cost  him  nothing,  Kelly  having  carried  him  from 
one  club  to  another,  cashing  a  cheque  at  each,  and 
spending  the  proceeds  with  such  freedom  as  to 
evoke  a  protest  from  his  guest. 

"  I  want  to  impress  you,"  Kelly  had  retorted. 
"  I  want  to  show  you  how  well  I've  done.  I 
always  do  the  same  when  I  get  hold  of  any  of  you 
fellows  from  out  there.  Yet,"  he  paused  and 
looked  at  the  other  keenly,  "  you're  such  a  queer 
beggar,  that  I  don't  suppose  you  are  impressed. 
I  needn't  have  tried  it  on  you,  after  all,"  but,  none 
the  less,  he  had  declined  to  let  his  companion  go, 
and  it  had  been  past  three  when  a  sleepy  night 
porter  admitted  Jimmy  to  the  hotel,  Kelly  having 
declared  his  intention  of  taking  a  room  at  the  club 
they  had  visited  last. 

Jimmy  drew  up  his  blind  to  find  the  sun  shin- 
ing in  a  cloudless  sky,  and  his  spirits  went  up  at 
once.  As  a  result  of  the  deluge  of  the  night  be- 
fore, London  looked  almost  clean  and  bright,  and 

27 


28  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

he  began  to  wonder  at  his  depression  of  the  pre- 
vious evening.  After  all,  it  was  very  good  to  be 
home  again,  and,  thanks  to  Kelly,  he  had  already 
made  a  small  start,  which  might  lead  to  much 
bigger  things.  Kelly,  himself,  had  arrived  in  Eng- 
land with  nothing,  an  unknown  man. 

From  Kelly,  his  mind  worked  backwards  to  the 
girl  he  had  seen  enter  the  cab.  It  was  curious  how 
her  face  seemed  fixed  in  his  memory.  The  thought 
of  her,  and  of  her  possible  story,  worried  him  all 
the  time  he  was  shaving,  and  he  found  himself 
wishing  he  had  never  noticed  her.  Somehow,  he 
did  not  like  the  look  of  her  companion,  who 
seemed  to  treat  her  with  a  very  perfunctory  sort 
of  courtesy,  verging  on  familiarity,  or  even  con- 
tempt. He  was  still  thinking  of  her  when  he 
went  down  to  breakfast;  but  the  sight  of  a  copy 
of  the  Record,  the  first  real  English  daily  he  had 
seen  for  many  years,  a  paper,  moreover,  which 
wanted  him  to  write  for  it,  changed  the  current 
of  his  thoughts,  and  he  forgot  all  about  the 
girl. 

Dodgson  had  told  him  there  was  no  hurry  for 
the  article,  any  time  within  the  next  week  or  so 
would  do,  and  he,  himself,  knew  that  it  would 
be  impossible  to  write  in  the  dreary  atmosphere 
of  the  hotel ;  so  he  decided  to  go  down  to  the  City 
and  call  on  his  brother,  Walter.  There  was  no 


PEOPLE   OF    POSITION  29 

one  else  he  wanted  to  see  in  town.  All  his  former 
acquaintances  had  dropped  clean  out  of  his  life,  or, 
rather,  he  had  dropped  out  of  theirs;  and,  prob- 
ably, he  could  not  have  found  one  of  them,  even 
had  he  wished  to  do  so,  which  was  not  the  case. 
He  was  a  very  lonely  man,  he  told  himself;  and 
yet  he  did  not  feel  bitter  about  that  fact  as  he  had 
done  on  the  previous  night;  his  meeting  with  Kelly, 
and  the  new  hope  with  which  the  other  had  in- 
fused him,  had  changed  his  views  greatly.  Now, 
it  seemed  as  if  he  had  a  prospect  of  doing  some- 
thing definite,  of  starting  on  a  new  career,  his  suc- 
cess in  which  would  depend  entirely  on  his  own 
exertions. 

Walter  Grierson  was  a  short,  clean-shaven  man 
with  a  decidedly  pompous  manner.  He  had  been 
very  successful  in  his  profession,  owing  to  his  en- 
ergy, rather  than  to  his  mental  capacity,  and  he 
regarded  unsuccessful  men  as  little  better  than 
criminals.  His  whole  outlook  on  life  was  severe, 
except  in  his  own  home,  where  he  was  a  generous 
husband  and  indulgent  father.  Never  having 
been  tempted  himself,  he  had  no  sympathy  with 
those  who  fell,  being  quite  unable  to  understand 
them.  Steadiness  was  the  virtue  he  most  admired 
in  younger  men,  meaning  by  that  term  the  capacity 
for  choosing  and  sticking  to  an  orthodox  method  of 
livelihood  and  for  maintaining  an  unwavering  re- 


30  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

spectability  of  conduct.  Jimmy's  career,  the  wan- 
derings from  one  country  to  another,  the  continual 
changes  of  occupation,  had  been  a  very  real  grief 
to  him,  violating  as  it  did  every  canon  of  his  creed. 
No  one  could  call  his  brother  steady. 

Walter  Grierson  was  engaged  when  Jimmy 
called,  and  the  visitor  spent  half  an  hour  glancing 
round  the  gloomy  office,  and  wondering  how  any- 
one could  be  content  to  spend  his  days  in  such  a 
place.  He  wanted  to  smoke,  but  something  in 
the  attitude  of  the  clerks  restrained  him,  and  he 
put  his  cigarette  case  back  into  his  pocket.  He 
was  not  sure  about  the  three  younger  ones,  whether 
they  would  be  scandalised,  or  whether  the  smell 
of  the  tobacco  would  arouse  cruel  longings  which 
could  not  be  satisfied  until  the  too-brief  luncheon 
hour  came  round;  but  there  was  no  mistaking  the 
reprobation  in  the  old  managing  clerk's  face. 
Even  their  richest  clients  knew  better  than  to  dis- 
turb the  microbes  on  the  upper  shelves  with  their 
smoke.  Those  same  clients  were  all  City  men, 
dignified,  and  understanding  the  ways  of  the  City, 
which  are  very  different  from  those  of  San  Fran- 
cisco or  Johannesburg.  In  London,  it  is  only  for- 
eigners and  green-fruit  brokers  and  such  like  doubt- 
ful people,  with  neither  self-respect  nor  position 
to  maintain,  who  break  the  City's  law.  Stock- 
brokers are,  of  course,  men  apart  from  the  rest. 


PEOPLE   OF   POSITION  31 

They  draw  most  of  their  customers  from  a  class 
which  knows  nothing  of  business;  and  must  there- 
fore be  humoured;  moreover,  a  little  eccentricity, 
a  lightheartedness,  verging  at  times  on  the  clown- 
ish, is  useful,  for,  if  duly  reported,  it  procures  the 
Stock  Exchange  a  free  advertisement  in  the  Press. 
Even  Mr.  Marlow  had  been  known  to  play  foot- 
ball with  a  silk  hat  and  wave  a  little  Union  Jack, 
when  the  news  of  a  British  victory,  which  meant 
an  improvement  in  the  Market,  was  recorded  in 
a  special  edition.  But  his  brother-in-law,  Walter 
Grierson,  had  never  done  any  of  these  things,  hav- 
ing neither  the  need,  nor  the  desire,  for  advertise- 
ment. Jimmy  did  not  know  the  City,  but  he  knew 
a  good  deal  of  mankind,  and  he  gleaned  something 
of  the  spirit  and  traditions  of  that  office,  as  his 
eyes  wandered  from  the  rows  of  black,  shiny  deed 
boxes  to  the  equally  shiny  pate  of  the  managing 
clerk,  and  then  to  the  drab-looking  girl  typist, 
pale-faced  and  narrow-chested,  who  seemed  to 
finger  the  key-board  as  though  the  maddening  click 
of  her  abominable  machine  had  killed  any  individ- 
uality she  might  once  have  had,  and  turned  her  into 
a  mere  part  of  the  mechanism  of  the  City.  The 
one  spot  of  colour  in  the  office  was  an  insurance 
company's  calendar,  and,  even  on  that,  the  design 
was  crude  and  the  inscription  little  more  than  a 
dull  list  of  figures.  Jimmy  sighed,  pitying  them 


32  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

all.  He  did  not  know  that  those  who  have  never 
experienced  the  crude  things  of  life  seldom  have 
any  desire  for  them.  Being  prosaic,  they  are  satis- 
fied with  prosaic  surroundings,  which  is  a  fortu- 
nate thing  in  an  essentially  prosaic  age.  There 
is  very  little  room  for  romance  in  a  world  which 
gauges  success  by  the  measure  of  a  reputed  bank 
balance. 

At  last,  the  client,  who  proved  to  have  side 
whiskers  and  an  ivory-handled  umbrella,  took  his 
departure,  and  Walter  Grierson  came  out  in  his 
wake.  The  solicitor  greeted  Jimmy,  if  not 
warmly,  at  least  sincerely;  then  sat  down  and 
slowly  took  stock  of  the  returned  wanderer. 

"  You  look  better  than  I  expected  from  what 
May  told  me  you  had  said  in  your  last  letter.  Yes, 
you  look  decidedly  better.  Still,  you  have  changed 
a  great  deal,  changed  in  many  ways."  He  ad- 
justed his  gold-rimmed  pince-nez,  in  order  to  make 
a  closer  scrutiny. 

Jimmy  laughed.  "  Well,  you  must  remember, 
it's  ten  years  since  you  saw  me  last,  and  I  wasn't 
very  old  then.  You,  yourself,  look  exactly  the 
same.  I  should  have  known  you  anywhere.  How 
are  Janet  and  the  children?" 

Walter  Grierson's  face  brightened  perceptibly. 
He  was  a  family  man  above  everything,  and  he 
gave  his  brother  very  full  details.  "  Let  me  see, 


PEOPLE   OF    POSITION  33 

you've  never  seen  George  and  Christine,  have 
you?"  he  asked  at  the  end  of  the  recital. 

Jimmy  shook  his  head.  "  No,  I  have  seven  or 
eight  unknown  nephews  and  nieces  to  inspect,  or 
I'm  not  sure  that  it  isn't  nine.  I've  rather  lost 
count." 

The  elder  man  frowned  slightly;  it  was  not  quite 
the  thing  to  refer  to  members  of  the  family  in 
that  flippant  way.  Surely  Jimmy  could  recollect 
the  number  of  his  sister's  children.  He  gave  the 
tally  of  the  latter,  with  their  names  and  ages,  and 
with  guarded  comments  on  their  peculiarities,  from 
which  Jimmy  gathered  that  they  were  decidedly 
inferior  to  the  little  Walter  Griersons.  And 
after  that  there  came  a  pause,  short  in  duration, 
certainly,  but  very  significant.  After  ten  years' 
separation  the  brothers  had  exhausted  their  sub- 
jects of  mutual  interest  in  little  over  ten  minutes. 

Jimmy  fingered  the  cigarette  case  in  his  pocket, 
knowing  the  consolation  and  the  wisdom  to  be 
found  in  tobacco;  but  he  did  not  like  to  produce 
it,  and  he  had  already  noted  that  Walter's  room 
was  innocent  of  any  ash-tray;  so,  instead,  he 
racked  his  brains  for  a  new  topic  of  conversa- 
tion. At  last: 

"  You're  the  sole  partner  here  now,  aren't 
you  ?  "  he  asked. 

Walter   nodded.       "  Yes,    Jardine   died  three 


34  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

years  back,  and  I  don't  want  anyone  else  till  I  can 
take  in  Ralph,  my  eldest  boy.  He  has  a  nasty 
cold,  or  you  would  have  seen  him  in  the  office." 
He  shook  his  head,  as  though  at  the  thought  of 
the  dangerous  after-effects  of  colds,  and  it  struck 
Jimmy  that,  for  a  man  of  forty-three  or  forty- 
four,  Walter  was  very  old  and  stuffy.  He,  him- 
self, often  felt  old  and  more  than  a  little  weary, 
but  in  quite  another  way.  He  was  not  snuffly 
and  solemn  in  consequence;  it  was  only  that  he 
knew  his  youth  was  slipping  from  him  fast,  per- 
haps had  already  slipped  from  him,  as  is  the  case 
with  every  European  who  stays  too  long  in  coun- 
tries made  for  the  coloured  man,  and  it  irritated 
him  to  think  that,  if  success  ever  did  come  to  him, 
it  would  probably  be  when  he  had  lost  the  capacity 
for  enjoyment. 

"  Have  you  made  any  plans  for  your  future 
movements?"  Walter  asked  suddenly. 

Jimmy  started.  "  Well,  yes — at  least,  last 
night  I  met  an  old  friend  of  mine,  and  he  advised 
me  to  go  in  for  writing.  I've  done  a  bit  of  it, 
of  course,  and  this  man,  Douglas  Kelly — I  expect 
you  know  his  name."  Walter  shook  his  head;  he 
never  read  anything  except  the  Times.  "  He's  a 
man  who's  made  a  big  hit,  and  he  knows  what 
I  can  do.  So  I  think  of  taking  his  advice.  The 
Record  has  already  asked  me  for  an  article." 


PEOPLE  OF   POSITION  35 

Once  more,  Walter  Grierson  frowned,  and  then 
he  sighed.  The  only  journalists  he  had  ever  met 
had  been  connected  with  financial  papers,  and  his 
negotiations  with  them  had  taught  him  the  sub- 
tleties of  scientific  blackmail.  Being  a  man  of 
little  imagination,  though  of  retentive  memory, 
he  judged  the  whole  profession  by  the  two  or  three 
members  of  it,  or  rather  pseudo-members,  he  had 
been  unfortunate  enough  to  encounter  profession- 
ally. 

"  I  am  sorry  to  hear  your  decision,  Jimmy," 
he  said.  "  Very  sorry,  indeed.  You  will  find 
it  a  most  precarious  way  of  life,  and  it  will  bring 
you  into  contact  with  highly  undesirable  people. 
I  had  hoped,  we  had  all  hoped,  that  now  you  had 
returned  you  would  settle  down  to  something 
steady.  Personally,  I  think  you  will  be  making 
a  great  mistake.  But  I  suppose  you  know  your 
own  business  best."  He  shook  his  head,  as 
though,  in  his  own  mind,  he  was  quite  sure  Jimmy 
did  not  know  anything  of  the  sort. 

Then,  once  more,  there  was  an  awkward  pause, 
and  it  was  a  relief  to  both  of  the  brothers  when 
the  junior  clerk  came  in  with  a  card  in  his  hand. 
Walter  Grierson  glanced  at  the  name,  then  got 
up.  l<  I  am  sorry,  Jimmy;  but  this  is  a  man  with 
whom  I  had  made  an  appointment.  I  would  ask 
you  to  lunch  with  me,  but  there  is  more  than  a 


3 6  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

probability  of  my  having  to  take  him  out.  You 
must  come  down  and  stay  with  us  soon.  Janet 
told  me  to  give  you  her  love,  and  ask  you  to  fix 
a  date.  I  am  very  glad  you  called.  Give  my 
love  to  May  when  you  see  her  to-night.  And, 
Jimmy,"  he  hesitated  a  little,  "  of  course  it  is  not 
for  me  to  advise  you;  but  I  do  wish  you  would 
reconsider  that  decision  of  yours.  It's  a  most 
precarious  calling,  most  precarious,  and,  I  am 
afraid,  one  full  of  temptations."  There  was  per- 
fectly genuine  concern  in  his  voice,  and  yet,  within 
a  couple  of  minutes,  Jimmy  and  his  affairs  were 
clean  out  of  his  mind,  and  he  was  deep  in  the 
business  of  his  client. 

Jimmy  lighted  a  cigarette  on  the  landing  out- 
side his  brother's  office;  but  neither  the  tobacco, 
nor  the  drink  he  had  a  few  minutes  later,  could 
alleviate  his  sense  of  disappointment.  He  was 
a  very  lonely  man. 


CHAPTER  IV 

**  I  VHE  Marlow  motor-car,  large  and  luxurious, 
with  red  panels  and  an  expensive  alien 
chauffeur,  met  Jimmy  at  the  station.  Mrs.  Mar- 
low  hurried  down  to  the  hall  as  she  heard  the 
throbbing  of  the  engine  outside  the  front  door, 
and  greeted  her  brother  with  emotion  which  verged 
on  tears. 

"  I  am  very  glad  to  see  you  again,  Jimmy, 
dear,"  she  said,  kissing  him  a  second  time.  "  And 
Henry,  too,  is  delighted  to  have  you.  Of  course, 
you  have  grown  a  great  deal  older,  but  I  don't 
know  that  you  have  changed  very  much."  She 
scrutinised  his  face,  then  noted,  with  something 
akin  to  dismay,  that  his  clothes,  though  well  cut, 
were  neither  new  nor  fashionable. 

Jimmy,  on  his  part,  was  trying  to  readjust  his 
ideas.  He  had  been  picturing  May  as  still  rather 
rosy  and  inclined  to  plumpness,  essentially  sug- 
gestive of  good  nature  and  repose;  now,  he  saw 
her  thin,  almost  angular,  a  little  hard  of  feature, 
though  retaining  some  of  her  good  looks.  In  his 
calculations,  he  had  forgotten  the  four  children 
she  had  brought  into  the  world  since  he  had  seen 
her  last. 

37 


38  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

May  asked  him  a  number  of  questions  about 
himself,  his  health,  and  his  doings,  hardly  wait- 
ing for  his  answers  before  passing  on  to  some- 
thing fresh,  and  hardly  listening  when  she  did 
allow  him  time  to  reply;  then — 

"  I'll  take  you  up  to  your  room,"  she  said. 
'  Your  trunks  have  gone  up  already.  I  have  had 
to  give  you  one  of  the  smaller  spare  rooms,  because 
my  sister-in-law  will  be  back  to-night — you  remem- 
ber Laura,  of  course — and  there  may  be  someone 
else  coming  to-morrow."  At  the  door  of  his  room 
she  paused.  "  Dinner  is  at  half-past  seven.  We 
always  dress,  but  don't  you  trouble,  if  you  would 
rather  not,  or,  or "  She  stammered  a  little. 

Jimmy  understood.  "  I  always  retained  my 
suit  through  all  my  ups  and  downs,"  he  said  with 
a  smile.  "  It  is  the  one  absolute  essential.  It  will 
get  you  credit  when  nothing  else  will.  Many  a 
time  I  have  gone  to  an  hotel  with  only  the  suit 
and  a  lot  of  old  newspapers  in  my  trunk,  and  not 
five  dollars  in  my  pocket." 

Mrs.  Marlow  did  not  smile.  Instead,  she 
looked  as  she  felt,  shocked  and  pained;  and  as 
she  went  downstairs  she  was  casting  round  for 
some  scheme  to  stop  Jimmy's  flow  of  reminiscences. 
It  would  never  do  for  him  to  talk  in  that  way  be- 
fore people  like  the  Graylings  or  the  Bashfords; 
whilst,  if  the  servants  were  to  hear  him,  it  would 


PEOPLE   OF   POSITION  39 

be  all  round  the  neighbourhood  in  a  couple  of 
days  that  Mrs.  Marlow's  brother  was,  or  had 
been,  a  penniless  adventurer. 

Jimmy  did  not  come  down  till  the  dinner  gong 
went;  consequently,  after  he  had  shaken  hands 
with  Henry  Marlow,  they  went  straight  into  the 
dining-room,  and  May  lost  her  chance  of  saying 
anything. 

Marlow  himself  was  hungry  and  ate  heartily, 
and  the  guest  was  distinctly  tired,  thanks  to 
Douglas  Kelly;  as  a  result,  there  was  little  said 
during  the  first  three  courses,  except  by  Mrs.  Mar- 
low,  who  gave  her  husband  a  full  account  of  all 
her  own  and  the  children's  doings  for  that  day, 
and  the  names  of  the  people  on  whom  she  had 
called,  and  of  other  visitors  whom  she  had  met 
at  their  houses.  Once  or  twice  she  tried  to  in- 
clude Jimmy  in  the  conversation,  by  asking  if  he 
did  not  remember  this  one  or  that,  friends  she 
had  known  before  she  was  married;  but,  in  every 
case,  they  were  merely  names  to  him ;  they  had  all 
been  grown  up  when  he  was  still  at  school,  and 
now,  after  having  forgotten  their  very  existence 
for  ten  years,  he  could  not  feel  the  slightest  interest 
in  them. 

After  a  while,  Marlow,  having  taken  the  edge 
off  his  appetite,  asked  him  a  few  questions  about 
his  wanderings,  but  paid  little  heed  to  his  answers. 


40  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

Even  when  Jimmy  told,  in  his  essentially  pictur- 
esque way,  the  story  of  John  Locke's  death,  his 
brother-in-law  merely  remarked  that  such  things 
were  never  allowed  to  occur  in  the  British  Empire, 
though,  doubtless,  they  were  to  be  expected  under 
governments  which  had  injured  the  market  so 
greatly  in  the  past  by  repudiating  their  bargains. 
Their  debased  silver  currency  and  their  worthless 
paper  money  were  an  absolute  scandal,  he  added. 

May,  on  her  part,  gave  a  little  gasp  when  told 
of  the  end  of  Locke's  slayer;  then,  looking  up, 
and  seeing  the  parlour-maid  standing  open- 
mouthed,  with  a  sauce-boat  balanced  on  a  tray  at 
a  most  dangerous  angle,  she  felt  it  was  time  to 
intervene. 

"  Please  don't  give  us  any  more  horrors,  Jimmy. 
We  are  not  used  to  them  here.  Mary,"  severely, 
to  the  parlour-maid,  "  the  master's  plate." 

Jimmy  flushed  and  said  no  more;  and,  appar- 
ently, they  were  perfectly  content  that  it  should 
be  so,  for  the  subject  of  his  travels  dropped,  and 
was  not  resumed,  either  then  or  afterwards.  He 
saw  that  they  were  not  interested,  even  though 
they  were  his  own  people;  and  he  listened  in 
silence  when  his  sister  went  back  to  the  appar- 
ently inexhaustible  subject  of  their  friends.  Cer- 
tainly, whilst  they  sat  smoking  after  dinner,  Henry 
Marlow  did  ask  his  guest  some  more  questions, 


PEOPLE  OF   POSITION  41 

a  great  many  more  in  fact,  and  listened  with  con- 
siderable attention  to  the  replies;  but,  as  Jimmy 
noted  with  a  kind  of  grim  amusement,  they  were 
all  of  an  impersonal  nature,  having  reference  solely 
to  mining  conditions  in  South  American  states. 
Jimmy's  own  experiences  at  the  hands  of  Dago 
patriots  left  his  brother-in-law  unmoved,  being 
things  which  belonged  rather  to  books,  and  cer- 
tainly had  no  part  in  the  lives  of  people  of  posi- 
tion ;  but  the  effect  of  those  same  patriots'  doings 
on  the  development  of  the  country,  and,  conse- 
quently, on  the  profits  of  British  Enterprise, 
aroused  his  bitterest  wrath.  Once,  some  years  be- 
fore, he  had  lost  over  a  thousand  pounds  through 
a  new  president  revoking  a  lead-mining  concession 
which  his  predecessor  had  granted;  and,  that 
predecessor  having  been  sent  where  neither  letters 
nor  writs  could  reach  him,  none  of  the  purchase 
money  had  been  recovered  despite  the  efforts  of 
the  Foreign  Office.  Mr.  Marlow,  himself,  had 
never  forgiven  either  the  Dagos  or  the  diplo- 
matists, especially  as  the  concession  had  eventually 
gone  to  a  German  firm,  which  had  made  a  clear 
half-million  out  of  it;  and  he  argued,  not  with- 
out reason,  that  the  most  effective  form  of  negotia- 
tion would  have  been  a  whiff  of  grapeshot,  or  its 
modern  equivalent,  from  the  guns  of  a  British 
cruiser. 


42  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

Jimmy  listened  patiently  to  the  grievance,  which 
took  some  time  in  the  telling,  involving,  as  it  did, 
full  details  of  the  careers  and  financial  standing 
of  the  directors  of  the  ill-fated  company,  men  of 
position  and  weight  in  the  City,  who  deserved  very 
different  treatment. 

"  Disgraceful  business,  disgraceful,"  Henry 
added.  "  To  think  that  the  British  Government 
should  allow  us  to  be  robbed  by  a  snuff-coloured 
rascal  like  that.  Did  you  ever  come  across 
him?" 

"Who?  President  Montez?"  Jimmy  laughed 
apologetically.  "I'm  very  sorry;  but  I  helped 
him  with  that  revolution.  I  was  pretty  hard  up 
at  the  time,  and  I  knew  something  about  field 
guns,  so  they  gave  me  a  job." 

Mr.  Marlow  apparently  saw  nothing  at  which 
to  laugh;  in  fact,  he  frowned  slightly.  He  held 
rather  strong  views  on  the  subject  of  law  and 
order;  moreover,  there  were  people  who  would 
be  very  ready  to  sneer  if  they  heard  Jimmy's  story 
of  the  affair.  But  his  chief  thought  was,  as  usual, 
for  his  wife,  who  would  be  annoyed  were  she  to 
learn  the  part  Jimmy  had  played. 

"  I  shouldn't  tell  May,  if  I  were  you,"  he  said. 
"  In  fact,  I  don't  think  I  should  tell  anyone.  You 
see,  it's  not — what  shall  I  say? — quite  the  thing 
to  be  mixed  up  in  those  affairs,  and  it  would  stand 


PEOPLE   OF   POSITION  43 

in  your  light  over  here,  socially  as  well  as  from 
a  practical  point  of  view.  You  understand?  " 

Jimmy  nodded;  at  least  he  was  beginning  to 
understand. 

May  was  doing  some  fancy  work  when  they 
joined  her  in  the  drawing-room;  but  she  glanced 
up  with  a  smile  as  Jimmy  entered,  and  told  him 
to  take  the  chair  next  to  hers.  After  all,  he  looked 
presentable,  this  brother  of  hers,  at  any  rate,  in 
evening  dress,  a  little  thin  for  his  height  and  rather 
yellow  in  the  face  perhaps,  but  still  there  was 
about  him  a  certain  indefinable  air  of  distinction 
which  most  men  she  knew  lacked.  There  were 
girls  who  might  even  call  him  handsome.  As 
she  thought  of  that,  her  mouth  hardened  momen- 
tarily. She  must  guard  against  any  folly  of  that 
sort  by  not  introducing  him  in  dangerous  quarters 
until  he  was  in  a  very  much  better  position  finan- 
cially. The  last  thought  suggested  a  question  she 
had  been  intending  to  ask  him  at  the  first  op- 
portunity. 

"  What  are  you  thinking  of  doing  now,  Jimmy? 
I  suppose  you  still  intend  to  remain  at  home?" 

Henry  Marlow  muttered  something  about  the 
evening  paper.  He  was  always  tactful  where  his 
wife  was  concerned,  and  this  was  a  Grierson  con- 
cern, in  which  he  might  seem  an  intruder.  May 
would  tell  him  anything  there  was  to  tell  later. 


44  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

Jimmy,  remembering  Walter's  reception  of  his 
news,  hesitated  slightly.  The  assurance  with 
which  Douglas  Kelly's  words  had  filled  him  was 
oozing  out  rather  rapidly.  It  was  one  thing  to 
decide  on  a  literary  career  when  one  was  in  a 
Bohemian  club  and  the  time  was  long  after  mid- 
night; but,  somehow,  in  an  essentially  staid  draw- 
ing-room, where  there  was  more  than  a  hint  of 
Victorian  influence  in  the  furniture,  and  with  a 
sense  of  a  heavy  dinner  still  oppressing  him,  mat- 
ters seemed  different.  After  all,  it  was  only 
natural  that  it  should  be  so.  He  was  a  Grierson, 
with  a  veneration  for  conventions  in  his  blood, 
and,  in  the  appropriate  surroundings,  the  force, 
so  long  latent  as  to  be  practically  forgotten,  be- 
gan to  make  itself  felt,  not  very  strongly,  perhaps, 
but  still  the  fact  remained  that  it  was  there.  Just 
as  his  father  had  given  in  at  last,  and  gone  to  the 
City,  so,  for  a  moment,  it  seemed  to  Jimmy  that 
he  must  go.  But  then  he  remembered  Walter's 
office,  where  you  could  not  smoke,  and  the  only 
spot  of  colour  was  that  inartistic  insurance  calen- 
dar with  its  grim  lists  of  figures. 

"  I'm  going  to  write,"  he  said,  "  or  at  least  try 
to  write.  I  think  I  can  make  a  living  at  it.  It's 
worth  trying.  There's  nothing  else,  you  see,"  he 
added,  a  little  lamely. 

May  stopped  in  the  middle  of  a  stitch,   and 


PEOPLE   OF   POSITION  45 

stared  at  him  with  something  akin  to  dismay. 
She  remembered  an  article  of  his  she  had  once 
read,  unsigned  to  be  sure,  and  only  in  an  obscure 
Hong  Kong  paper,  but  so  painfully  outspoken 
that  she  had  shown  it  to  no  one,  not  even  to  her 
husband;  and  then  rose  up  before  her  the  vision 
of  him  writing  similar  articles  for  London  jour- 
nals, and  of  the  world,  her  world,  knowing  him 
to  be  the  author.  She  recognised  her  brother's 
cleverness,  and  it  never  entered  into  her  head 
to  doubt  that  he  could  get  his  work  into  print; 
she  knew  nothing  of  the  financial  side  of  journal- 
ism, and,  for  the  moment,  what  had  formerly 
seemed  the  all-important  question,  Jimmy's  method 
of  livelihood,  was  thrust  into  the  background,  ow- 
ing to  her  fear  that  he  would  do  something  to 
compromise  both  himself  and  his  family. 

Yet,  the  idea  had  taken  her  so  greatly  by  sur- 
prise that  at  first  she  did  not  know  what  to  say. 
She  was  not  afraid  of  offending  Jimmy  or  of  hurt- 
ing his  feelings.  To  her,  he  was  still  a  boy,  who 
wouldj  or  at  least  should,  listen  to  her  advice. 

"  Surely  you  don't  mean  that,  Jimmy,"  she  be- 
gan. "  I  never  dreamt  of  your  contemplating 
such  a  thing;  and  I  shall  be  very  sorry  if  you  go 
on  with  it.  I  am  certain  you  will  do  yourself  a 
lot  of  harm,  for  I  know  from  your  letters  that  you 
have  picked  up  a  number  of  curious,  and  even 


46  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

improper,  ideas.  We  are  all  aware  that  there  is 
a  low  public  taste  which  likes  these  things;  but 
there  are  already  more  than  enough  writers  pro- 
viding them.  We  had  hoped  that  when  you  came 
home  you  would  settle  down  to  regular  work  of 
some  sort." 

Jimmy  had  coloured  a  little.  "What  sort?" 
he  asked  quietly. 

It  was  May's  turn  to  flush;  she  did  not  quite 
like  his  tone,  and,  moreover,  she  had  no  answer 
ready.  "  Some  business,  of  course,"  she  answered 
tartly.  "  You  have  no  profession.  Henry  has 
promised  to  see  if  any  of  his  friends  have  vacancies 
in  their  offices.  I  suppose  you  have  saved  enough 
to  keep  you  for  a  little  while  ?  " 

Her  brother  got  up  rather  suddenly.  He  had 
"been  alone  so  long,  playing  a  lone  hand,  that  he 
had  forgotten  the  great  unwritten  law  of  the 
Family  Inquisition,  whose  main  clause  is  that  the 
common  rules  of  courtesy  do  not  apply  when  two 
of  the  same  blood  meet;  but  still,  he  recognised 
the  genuine  kindness  underlying  the  inquiry,  and 
stifled  his  resentment,  which  May  would  not  have 
understood,  because  she  and  Walter  and  Ida  were 
in  the  habit  of  asking  each  other  similar  blunt 
questions. 

"  For  a  short  time,"  he  answered.  "  Enough 
for  a  week  or  two,  and  a  friend  on  the  Press  has 


PEOPLE   OF   POSITION  47 

put  me  in  the  way  of  getting  one  commission  al- 
ready. As  for  a  City  office,  I  couldn't  stand  it 
for  a  day." 

Mrs.  Marlow  put  another  stitch  in  her  fancy 
work,  then  pulled  her  thread  a  little  viciously, 
breaking  it.  "  Well,  I  hope  you  will  be  careful, 
and  not  write  anything  we  need  feel  ashamed  of. 
Remember,  that  though  you  may  have  no  posi- 
tion to  lose,  we  have  one." 

"  You  needn't  be  afraid  of  that,  May."  There 
was  a  suspicion  of  scorn,  and  more  than  a  sus- 
picion of  anger,  in  his  voice.  "  It  doesn't  make 
much  difference  if  I  don't  write  under  my  own 
name,  so  long  as  I  can  get  the  dollars,  which 
are  what  I'm  out  for." 

Mrs.  Marlow  gave  in  with  a  sigh.  After  all, 
so  long  as  he  kept  the  family  name  out  of  print, 
there  would  not  be  much  harm  done;  and  it  was 
a  relief  to  find  that  he  looked  at  matters  from  a 
practical  point  of  view.  Of  course,  he  ought  to 
have  accepted  Henry's  assistance  and  gone  into 
the  City;  but  if  he  would  not  do  so,  as  seemed 
to  be  the  case,  it  was  some  consolation  to  find 
that  he  was  apparently  anxious  to  make  money 
in  other  ways. 

But  when  she  talked  the  matter  over  with  her 
husband  after  Jimmy  had  gone  up  to  bed,  Henry 
Marlow  shook  his  head.  His  opinions  coincided 


48  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

exactly  with  those  of  Walter  Grierson.  "  A  most 
precarious  occupation,"  he  said,  "  and  one  which 
I  should  certainly  not  allow  our  boys  to  take  up. 
It's  a  great  pity,  as  I  believe  I  could  have  got  him 
into  Foulger's  office — Foulger  and  Hilmon,  you 
know,  the  jobbers." 

Upstairs,  Jimmy  was  smoking  and  staring  into 
his  fire.  Somehow,  he  felt  very  disappointed,  as 
though  he  had  been  working  on  a  false  assumption, 
and  must  readjust  his  ideas  and  then  start  afresh. 
He  was  little  more  at  home  than  he  had  been  the 
previous  night  in  the  hotel. 


CHAPTER   V 

hours  of  Jimmy's  stay  with  the  Marlows 
dragged  by  slowly.  The  children,  four 
boys,  proved  uninteresting  in  the  extreme,  whilst 
between  himself  and  Laura  Marlow,  May's  sister- 
in-law,  there  was  little  in  common.  Two  other 
guests,  an  elderly  aunt  and  uncle  of  Henry's,  ar- 
rived in  time  for  dinner  on  the  second  night,  and 
Jimmy  retired  more  and  more  into  the  back- 
ground, or,  rather,  he  found  himself  in  the  back- 
ground by  a  kind  of  natural  sequence.  No  one 
wanted  to  put  him  there ;  in  fact,  both  his  brother- 
in-law  and  his  sister  were  kindness  itself;  but  he 
was  the  outsider  in  the  party,  sharing  none  of  the 
interests  of  the  others. 

He  had  been  invited  for  a  week,  at  least,  longer 
if  possible;  yet  at  the  end  of  three  days  he  was 
longing  for  an  excuse  to  get  back  to  town,  where 
he  intended  to  take  rooms;  but  no  excuse  pre- 
sented itself,  and  so  he  stayed  on,  spending  most 
of  his  time  in  the  billiard-room,  a  part  of  the  house 
seldom  used  in  the  daytime,  writing,  or  trying 
to  write,  some  of  the  articles  which  Douglas  Kelly 
had  suggested.  He  had  sent  his  copy  in  to  the 

49 


50  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

Record,  and  each  morning,  immediately  after 
breakfast,  he  strolled  down  to  the  little  news  agent's 
shop  to  buy  a  copy  of  the  paper — Mr.  Marlow 
took  no  halfpenny  journals' — but  when  Sunday 
came  round  it  had  not  appeared. 

The  Marlows  were  regular  church-goers,  at 
least  Mrs.  Marlow  was,  and  her  husband  always 
accompanied  her  when  he  was  not  away  at  the 
seaside,  golfing.  May  took  her  religion  as  part 
of  her  settled  order  of  existence.  She  had  been 
bred  up  in  it,  and  she  would  have  resented  any 
attack  on  it  as  fiercely  as  she  would  have  resented 
the  abolition  of  class  distinctions.  She  believed 
in  it,  and,  in  a  sense,  she  loved  it;  but,  with  the 
one  exception  of  her  father's  tragic  death,  her 
way  through  life  had  been  so  smooth  that  she  had 
never  felt  the  need  of  its  consolations,  and,  con- 
sequently, had  never  analysed  it  in  any  way. 
Doubt  had  never  entered  into  her  mind,  because 
her  creed  seemed  to  suit  her  circumstances  so  ad- 
mirably. The  well-dressed  congregation,  the  well- 
trained  choir,  the  cushioned  seats  and  reserved 
pews,  the  suave,  optimistic  rector,  and  deferential 
curates — these  were  all  part  of  a  nicely  balanced 
state  of  society  which  kept  motor-cars,  or  at  least 
broughams,  and  paid  its  tradesmen's  bills  by 
cheque  on  the  first  of  the  month. 

Henry  Marlow  seldom,  if  ever,  gave  the  matter 


PEOPLE  OF   POSITION  51 

a  thought;  but  he  subscribed  generously  when 
asked  by  the  rector,  and  he  kept  the  Ten  Com- 
mandments scrupulously,  so  far  as  his  home  life 
was  concerned.  He  respected  the  Church,  as 
something  which  stood  for  solidity  and  the  security 
of  property,  like  Consols  and  the  Mansion  House, 
and  he  regarded  Dissenters  in  much  the  same  light 
as  he  did  outside  brokers,  as  persons  who  should 
be  watched  by  the  police.  He  did  not  try  to  wor- 
ship both  God  and  Mammon  simultaneously;  but, 
wholly  unconsciously,  he  divided  his  life  into  two 
parts,  that  which  he  spent  in  the  City,  and  that 
which  he  spent  outside  the  Square  Mile,  and  so 
avoided  the  difficulty. 

Jimmy,  on  the  otRer  hand,  had  heard  very  few 
services  during  the  last  ten  years,  and  of  those 
the  majority  had  been  read  by  a  layman,  and  had 
begun  with  the  words  "  I  am  the  resurrection  and 
the  life,  saith  the  Lord."  Lack  of  opportunity 
had  kept  him  from  attending  in  the  first  case, 
and,  after  a  while,  having  lost  the  habit  of  his 
boyhood,  he  had  ceased  to  think  of  taking  such 
opportunities  as  did  offer. 

"  I  think  it  must  be  five  years  at  least  since  I 
went  to  anything  but  a  funeral  service,"  he  re- 
marked to  May,  as  they  walked  towards  the  big 
red-brick  church. 

Mrs.  Marlow  threw  a  swift  glance  over  her 


52  PEOPLE   OF  POSITION 

shoulder,  fearing  her  other  guests,  who  were  fol- 
lowing, might  have  heard.  "  Hush,  Jimmy,"  she 
said.  "  It  sounds  so  bad.  Never  say  that  again, 
especially  before  the  servants.  The  rector's  house- 
maid is  sister  to  my  parlour-maid,  and  it  would  be 
sure  to  get  round  to  him.  Of  course,  I  know  you 
have  been  in  wild  places  where  there  were  no 
churches,  and  we  understand,  but  others  might  not. 
And  all  our  friends  are  Church-people." 

Jimmy  dropped  the  subject,  and  a  few  minutes 
later  he  was  following  her  rustling  skirts  up  the 
broad  centre  aisle  to  the  pew  four  rows  back  from 
the  pulpit.  He  wished  it  had  not  been  so  far 
forward,  because  the  worshippers  interested  him, 
if  only  by  reason  of  their  sameness  of  type.  You 
could  see  they  were  all  people  of  position,  with 
regular  incomes  and  hereditary  political  convic- 
tions, solid  people  of  that  slow-moving,  tenacious 
class  which  is  the  real  backbone  of  the  country, 
holding,  as  it  does,  the  greater  part  of  the  wealth, 
and  producing,  often  by  a  kind  of  apparent  acci- 
dent, the  greater  part  of  the  intellect. 

Jimmy  belonged  to  them  by  birth,  and  yet,  as 
he  sat  amongst  them,  listening  to  the  lisping  voice 
of  the  senior  curate,  he  found  it  hard  to  realise 
the  fact.  He  tried  his  best  to  follow  the  service, 
to  keep  his  mind  on  it,  but,  somehow,  the  whole 
atmosphere  seemed  wrong.  The  church  was  a 


PEOPLE   OF   POSITION  53 

modern  one,  the  work  of  a  famous  architect,  and, 
therefore,  grossly  inartistic,  lacking  every  feature 
which  makes  for  solemnity  and  beauty.  The  de- 
tail was  coarse  and  roughly  finished,  the  red-brick 
walls,  as  always,  an  offence  to  the  eye;  big  texts 
seemed  to  squirm,  like  semi-paralysed  eels,  over 
the  chancel  arch  and  round  the  East  window. 
The  latter,  off  which  Jimmy  could  hardly  take  his 
eyes,  was  a  veritable  triumph  of  the  Victorian 
tradition.  Its  colouring  was  gruesome,  its  design 
grotesque;  and  yet  it  was  a  source  of  great  pride 
to  the  congregation  as  a  whole,  having  been  put 
in  to  the  memory  of  a  banker  who  had  left  nearly 
a  million.  They  no  more  dreamed  of  doubting 
its  artistic  merits  than  they  did  of  questioning  the 
religion  it  was  supposed  in  some  vague  way  to 
typify. 

The  singing  was  good,  the  sermon  grammat- 
ical and  well  delivered,  and  yet  Jimmy  left  the 
church  with  a  feeling  of  dissatisfaction.  He  had 
expected  that  this,  his  first  service  in  England  after 
ten  years,  would  have  carried  him  back  to  the  days 
when  he  knew  nothing  of  the  Tree  of  Knowledge ; 
but,  instead  of  that,  it  had  made  no  appeal  to  him. 
Its  poetry  was  destroyed  by  the  hideousness  of  the 
surroundings;  whilst  even  the  glorious  words  of 
the  Benediction  seemed  but  a  perfunctory  dismis- 
sal, giving  the  congregation  leave  to  hasten  away 


54  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

to  the  heavy  dinners  which  were  awaiting  it  at 
home. 

He  was  very  silent  on  his  way  back,  thinking 
of  the  past,  and  he  was  only  recalled  to  the  pres- 
ent when  May,  seeing  him  producing  his  cigarette 
case,  thought  it  time  to  speak. 

"  Jimmy,"  she  said,  rather  severely,  "  it  is 
hardly  correct  to  smoke  on  your  way  home  from 
church.  People  notice  that  sort  of  thing  so 
much." 

Her  brother  coloured,  and  thrust  the  case  back 
into  his  pocket.  A  minute  later,  he  heard  his 
sister's  name  spoken,  and  a  tall,  well-dressed 
woman  hurried  up  from  behind. 

"  I  have  been  trying  to  overtake  you  for  the 
last  five  minutes,  May,"  she  said.  "  Only  you 
have  been  walking  as  if  you  were  very,  very 
hungry,"  then,  disregarding  Mrs.  Marlow's  little 
snort  of  annoyance,  she  turned  to  Jimmy,  "  Don't 
you  remember  me,  Jimmy — Mr.  Grierson  I  sup- 
pose I  ought  to  say — I'm  Ethel  Grimmer,  Ethel 
Jardine  that  was." 

Jimmy  laughed  and  took  the  outstretched  hand. 

"Of  course  I  remember  you  now;  but  when  I 
saw  you  in  church  where  I  could  only  catch  your 
profile  obliquely,  I  was  not  quite  sure  who  you 
were.  I  didn't  know  you  lived  down  here." 

Mrs.  Grimmer  laughed  too,  but  mentally  she 


PEOPLE  OF   POSITION  55 

registered  another  grievance  against  May.  So 
this  Jimmy  Grierson,  who  dressed  quite  decently 
after  all,  and  had  a  distinctly  interesting  face,  was 
to  be  kept  in  the  background. 

"  I  suppose  you  and  May  have  found  so  much 
to  talk  about,"  she  said.  "  I'm  sure  you  must, 
after  being  apart  all  these  years,  and  you  have 
such  a  lot  to  tell."  She  was  a  handsome  woman 
with  fine  eyes,  and  she  knew  how  to  use  them. 
"  When  May  has  done  with  you,  or  rather  when 
she  can  spare  you  for  an  hour  or  two,  you  must 
come  and  see  us — Jimmy."  She  blushed  a  little. 
"When  will  you  let  him  come,  May?  How 
would  dinner  on  Tuesday  do?  I  know  you  and 
Henry  are  going  to  the  Foulgers'  that  night,  and 
this  poor  boy  will  be  alone." 

May  bit  her  lip  to  repress  an  exclamation  of 
annoyance.  She  did  not  want  Jimmy  to  go  to 
the  Grimmers',  but  it  was  impossible  to  deny  the 
engagement  with  the  Foulgers,  and  equally  im- 
possible to  say  that  Jimmy  was  going  there  with 
her — Ethel  Grimmer  knew  how  many  people  the 
Foulger  dining  table  would  seat;  so  she  gave  in, 
and  Jimmy  arranged  to  go,  showing  rather  more 
eagerness  over  his  acceptance  than  May  consid- 
ered necessary.  Indeed,  she  remarked  so  much 
to  her  husband  whilst  she  was  taking  off  her  hat; 
then  a  sudden  thought  struck  her,  and  she  paused, 


5 6  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

with  her  fingers  still  grasping  a  half-withdrawn 
hatpin. 

"  Henry,  do  you  remember  what  a  silly  fuss 
Ethel  used  to  make  over  Jimmy,  just  before  he 
went  abroad,  how  they  used  to  go  cycling  together. 
Of  course,  she's  years  older  than  he  is,  but 
still ," 

Marlow  nodded  solemnly;  he  had  never  really 
liked  the  Grimmers,  and  he  knew  that,  several 
times  lately,  Ethel  had  gone  out  of  her  way  to 
annoy  his  wife,  whilst  Grimmer  himself  had  be- 
haved like  a  fool  over  the  Gold  Dredging  Com- 
pany, actually  hinting  that,  because  they  knew 
each  other  socially,  he  ought  to  have  been 
warned  when  the  thing  was  going  wrong.  As 
if  sentiment  of  that  sort  could  be  allowed  to  in- 
trude on  business.  Billy  Grimmer  had  been  in 
the  City  over  twenty  years,  and  it  was  quite  time 
he  knew  its  ways. 

"  Ethel  is  a  vain,  flighty  woman,"  Marlow  said, 
in  reply  to  his  wife's  remark.  "  She  likes  to  have 
young  men  like  Jimmy  trailing  after  her;  and 
Grimmer  only  laughs.  I  suppose  it's  what  they 
call  being  'smart.'  Pity  he  doesn't  put  a  little 
more  smartness  into  his  business  affairs."  He 
chuckled  slightly  at  the  recollection  of  the  dredg- 
ing shares,  which  had  been  some  of  those  he,  him- 
self, had  received  as  vendor.  "  Still,  Jimmy  is 


PEOPLE   OF   POSITION  57 

old  enough  to  take  care  of  himself  now,"  he  went 
on,  "  and,  after  all,  he  will  be  going  back  to  town 
a  day  or  two  later." 

But  May  shook  her  head.  "  I  must  warn  him 
not  to  talk  too  much — he  seems  terribly  indiscreet 
• — and  I  think  I  shall  give  him  a  plain  hint  about 
falling  in  love,  and  so  on.  From  what  Ethel  said 
the  other  day,  she  is  quite  capable  of  getting  some 
silly  girls  with  money  to  meet  him." 

Meanwhile,  Jimmy  was  staring  out  of  the  win- 
dow of  the  billiard-room,  and  smiling  a  little 
grimly  at  the  memories  which  his  meeting  with 
Mrs.  Grimmer  had  reawakened.  They  had  been 
very  great  friends  in  his  Sandhurst  days,  al- 
though she  was  several  years  his  senior;  and,  for 
a  month  or  two  after  his  departure  from  Eng- 
land, he  had  slept  with  her  photo  under  his  pillow, 
and  tried  to  imagine  her  warm  farewell  kisses  on 
his  lips;  and  then,  somehow,  the  photo  had  got 
mislaid,  and  the  other  recollections  had  begun  to 
lose  their  actuality,  and  when,  a  year  later,  he  had 
received  the  news  of  her  engagement,  he  had 
written  her  a  hearty,  and  perfectly  sincere,  letter 
of  congratulation.  It  would  be  distinctly  amusing 
to  meet  her  under  the  new  conditions,  and  see  how 
much  she  was  disposed  to  remember. 


CHAPTER   VI 

ON  Tuesday  morning  Jimmy  opened  the  Rec- 
ord as  usual  at  page  4,  and  the  first  thing 
that  caught  his  eye  was  his  own  article.  He 
glanced  down  it  quickly,  with  an  unusual  sense  of 
exaltation:  never  before  had  anything  of  his  ap- 
peared in  a  great  London  daily;  and  the  Record's 
circulation  ran  to  a  considerable  fraction  of  a  mil- 
lion. There  was  no  one  with  him  to  whom  he 
could  show  it;  but  he  was  passing  an  hotel,  the 
"  Railway  Tavern,"  and  he  turned  in  at  the  door, 
to  celebrate  his  luck,  and  read  his  work  through 
quietly. 

The  barmaid,  who  was  polishing  her  spirit  meas- 
ures, looked  at  him  curiously.  "  You  seem  mighty 
pleased  about  something,"  she  said  at  last,  per- 
haps a  little  resentfully,  as  though  feeling  that  her 
own  rather  full-blown  charms  deserved  more  at- 
tention than  the  paper. 

Jimmy  glanced  up  with  a  smile.  "  There's  an 
article  of  mine  here,"  he  said,  holding  out  the 
sheet. 

The  girl  knit  her  brow  and  spelled  out  the  head- 
ing. "My!  Is  that  your  writing?  What's  it 

58 


PEOPLE   OF   POSITION  59 

all  about.  Anything  spicy?"  But,  though  she 
was  regarding  him  with  more  interest  than  before, 
she  made  no  attempt  to  read  his  work. 

Jimmy  finished  his  drink  and  folded  up  the 
paper.  Somehow,  at  the  second  reading,  it  had 
not  seemed  so  good.  There  were  at  least  two 
clumsy  sentences,  and  the  fool  of  a  printer  had 
chopped  out  half  a  dozen  commas.  He  could  see 
now  where  he  could  have  made  several  improve- 
ments, and  he  had  little  doubt  that  Dodgson  would 
see  too,  and,  perhaps,  reckon  him  a  careless  work- 
man. He  had  yet  to  learn  how  much,  or  how 
little,  the  public  recks  of  either  grammar  or  punc- 
tuation, how  it  prefers  semi-truths  tempered  by 
split  infinitives  to  facts  stated  in  balanced  prose. 

As  he  came  out  of  the  hotel,  his  mind  was  full 
of  the  career  which  seemed  to  lie  ahead  of  him, 
and  he  did  not  notice  Laura  Marlow  walking  up 
the  other  side  of  the  road;  but  Miss  Marlow  saw 
him,  saw  too  where  he  had  been,  and  duly  re- 
ported the  fact  to  May  when  she  returned  to  the 
house. 

Jimmy  found  his  sister  in  her  boudoir,  busy 
with  her  tradesmen's  books,  searching  for  the 
errors  which  certainly  would  have  been  there  had 
the  butcher  and  the  baker  and  the  grocer  not 
learned  long  since  that  Mrs.  Marlow  was  in  the 
habit  of  checking  her  accounts,  a  habit  which 


60  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

they  viewed  with  a  mixture  of  scorn  and  wrath, 
tempered  by  not  a  little  fear.  They  regarded  her 
much  as  a  municipal  politician  regards  a  chartered 
accountant;  but  they  knew  it  was  useless  to  add 
up  two  and  five  as  eight,  or  to  charge  for  fresh 
butter  when  cooking  butter  had  been  ordered. 
May  allowed  no  one  to  rob  her  husband,  even  of 
a  halfpenny.  They  called  her  a  hard  woman,  and 
said  many  bitter  things  about  her  as  they  fore- 
gathered outside  the  chapel  after  service;  but,  none 
the  less,  they  supplied  her  with  far  better  goods 
than  those  they  sent  to  Mrs.  Grimmer,  who  paid 
her  bills  spasmodically,  without  attempting  to 
check  them. 

May  glanced  at  the  paper  her  brother  held  out, 
but  she  did  not  attempt  to  take  it.  "  I  will  read 
it  by  and  by,  when  I've  time,"  she  said;  then  she 
noticed  his  name  below  the  heading  and  frowned. 
"  I  thought  you  were  going  to  write  under  an 
assumed  name,"  she  added. 

Jimmy  coloured  slightly.  "  I've  changed  my 
mind,"  he  said,  rather  shortly.  "  I  don't  see  why 
I  should  disguise  myself.  It's  nothing  to  be 
ashamed  of,  as  you'll  see  if  you  read  it." 

His  sister  sighed  and  picked  up  her  pencil  again. 
"  I  must  get  on  with  these  tiresome  tradesmen's 
books.  Oh,  don't  leave  that  paper  there,  Jimmy." 
He  had  put  it  down  on  the  table.  "  There's  so 


PEOPLE   OF   POSITION  61 

much  litter  about  already.  I'll  ask  you  for  it 
later." 

Jimmy  picked  up  the  Record  again  and  left 
the  room  without  another  word.  His  sister's  ap- 
parent lack  of  interest  hurt  him  more  than  he  cared 
to  acknowledge,  even  to  himself;  and  his  sense  of 
grievance  deepened  as  the  day  went  by  without  her 
making  any  other  reference  to  his  article.  Yet, 
after  lunch,  she  found  time  to  put  in  an  hour  study- 
ing a  children's  fashion  paper  with  the  greatest 
attention.  He  had  the  cutting  from  the  Record 
in  his  pocket-book,  ready  for  her  or  any  of  the 
other  guests  to  see,  but  it  remained  there  until 
the  evening,  and  when  he  dressed  to  go  to  the 
Grimmers'  he  left  it  behind  deliberately.  He  was 
not  going  to  risk  another  snub. 

On  entering  the  Grimmer  drawing-room,  how- 
ever, Ethel  met  him  with  a  copy  of  the  paper  in 
her  hand. 

"  Billy  just  brought  this  home  from  town,"  she 
said.  "  A  man  showed  it  to  him  in  the  train.  I 
like  it  very  much  indeed,  and  so  does  my  hus- 
band." She  paused  and  gave  a  little  laugh.  "  It's 
awfully  nice  of  you  to  come,  Jimmy,  and — and, 
not  be  jealous  or  anything  silly.  Still,  that  was  all 
years  ago,  wasn't  it?" 

"  You  look  just  the  same,"  he  answered,  smil- 
ing back  at  her. 


62  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

She  laughed  again,  flattered,  and  yet  relieved 
at  his  tone — some  men  do  remember  such  a  stu- 
pidly long  time,  and  she  had  half  feared  lest  her 
guest  might  be  one  of  them.  "  Now  you  are 
being  silly,"  she  answered,  lightly.  "  I  am  sure 
May  wouldn't  approve  of  that.  But  I  know  you're 
going  to  be  good,  and,  as  a  reward,  I've  got  two 
very  nice  girls  for  you  to  meet.  Ah,  here's  Billy." 
Then  she  introduced  the  two  men,  adding,  "  Billy 
knows  all  about  you  already." 

The  nice  girls  proved  to  be  respectively  Miss 
Farlow,  the  daughter  of  the  rector,  and  Miss  Bar- 
ton, whose  mother  had  a  large  house  next  to  that 
of  the  Marlows,  for  whom  she  entertained  that 
measure  of  good  will  which  usually  exists  between 
near  neighbours;  but,  none  the  less,  she  was  very 
pleasant  to  Jimmy,  knowing  nothing  of  his  finan- 
cial position.  Young  men  were  by  no  means 
plentiful  in  the  neighbourhood. 

The  rector,  too,  was  pleasant,  for  very  similar 
reasons,  although,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  he  was 
affable  to  all  his  parishioners  and  their  relatives. 
There  were  no  poor  amongst  his  flock,  no  self- 
evident  black  sheep,  and,  consequently,  he  was 
able  to  know  every  member  of  his  congregation 
socially,  which,  as  he  was  never  tired  of  repeating, 
was  most  comforting  to  a  conscientious  man. 

Mrs.  Grimmer,  having  secured  Jimmy,  did  not 


PEOPLE   OF    POSITION  63 

mean  to  allow  his  light  to  remain  hidden,  as  May 
apparently  intended  it  should  be ;  consequently,  din- 
ner had  scarcely  begun  before  she  started  to  draw 
him  out  scientifically,  and,  after  the  dullness  of  the 
last  few  days,  her  guest  was  not  loath  to  talk.  He 
was  always  interesting,  but  this  time  he  was  almost 
brilliant;  and  when  Ethel  gave  the  signal  to  the 
other  ladies,  she  left  the  room  feeling  that  she  had 
scored  greatly  over  Mrs.  Marlow,  who  would  now 
have  to  explain  why  she  had  kept  this  distinctly 
interesting  brother  in  the  background.  Grimmer, 
too,  was  pleased,  foreseeing  a  chance  of  annoying 
Marlow  in  the  train  by  bringing  up  the  subject  of 
Jimmy's  adventures. 

Ethel  managed  to  keep  her  guest  until  the  others 
had  gone,  and  even  then  she  did  not  seem  inclined 
to  let  him  go. 

"  Stay  and  have  a  whisky  and  soda  and  another 
cigar  with  Billy.  I  know  you  would  like  one,  and 
I'm  quite  sure  it  won't  hurt  that  fat  butler  of 
May's  to  sit  up  an  extra  half-hour  to  let  you  in. 
I  don't  suppose  May  has  given  you  a  latchkey." 

Jimmy  shook  his  head  at  the  latter  suggestion, 
then  followed  her  into  the  smoking-room. 

"  I  think  I  shall  have  a  cigarette,  too,  Billy," 
she  said  to  her  husband,  after  she  had  settled  her 
rather  elaborate  draperies  into  a  big  leather  chair, 
"  only  you  mustn't  tell  May,  Jimmy.  I  am  quite 


64  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

sure  she  never  smoked.  I  didn't  myself  until  this 
husband  of  mine  taught  me."  She  took  a  few 
whiffs,  then,  "Which  did  you  like  best?"  she 
asked,  suddenly.  "  Mary  Barton  will  have  the 
most  money;  but  Vera  Farlow  is  the  better  looking, 
and,  they  say,  her  father  will  probably  be  a  bishop 
some  day.  You  see,  he  has  private  means,  and 
married  an  earl's  granddaughter." 

Her  guest  parried  the  question,  a  little  awk- 
wardly; whereupon  Mrs.  Grimmer,  seeing  his 
embarrassment,  let  the  matter  drop,  and  went  on 
to  ask  about  his  plans  for  the  future.  "  I  wonder 
you  don't  live  with  some  of  your  own  people,"  she 
said,  when  he  told  her  of  his  intention  to  take 
rooms.  "  But,  still,  I  suppose  it  would  be  dull  for 
you.  What  do  you  say,  Billy?  .  .  .  You  must 
come  down  here  for  a  week-end  as  soon  as  you  can 
find  time." 

It  was  an  hour  later  when  Jimmy  left;  and  the 
fat  butler  had  already  finished  the  bottle  of  port 
and  gone  to  sleep,  with  the  result  that  only  at  the 
third  ringing  of  the  bell  did  he  awaken  and  stumble 
upstairs  to  the  front  door.  Jimmy  was  feeling 
more  than  ever  disappointed  at  the  attitude  of  his 
own  people,  more  than  ever  ready  to  disregard 
both  their  wishes  and  their  advice.  After  all, 
Ethel  Grimmer  had  far  more  brains  and  sympa- 
thy than  May;  whilst  Grimmer,  though  not  over- 


PEOPLE  OF   POSITION  65 

brilliant,  was  more  interesting  than  Henry  Mar- 
low.  He  woke  up  next  morning  with  his  sense  of 
grievance  still  unabated;  and  his  disappointment 
changed  to  something  very  like  anger  when  May 
called  him  into  her  boudoir  after  breakfast,  and 
proceeded  to  cross-examine  him  as  to  whom  he  had 
met  at  the  Grimmers'. 

"  I  hope  you  will  remember  these  people  are  all 
our  friends,  even  more  than  they  are  Ethel's, 
Jimmy,"  she  said  severely,  "  and  I  trust  you  will 
not  let  Ethel  fill  your  head  with  her  own  silly  ideas 
about  getting  married  and  so  on.  Both  Mrs.  Bar- 
ton and  Mrs.  Farlow  will  only  allow  their  girls 
to  marry  men  of  means  and  position." 

"  And  you  mean  that  I  have  neither."  Her 
brother  laughed  bitterly.  "  Good  heavens,  May, 
do  you  think  I  came  home  to  get  married,  and 
live  on  a  stodgy  father-in-law?  I've  got  plenty 
of  other  things  to  think  about."  But  although 
he  brushed  the  matter  aside  scornfully,  May's 
words  remained  in  his  memory.  Only  men  of 
means  and  position  were  wanted  in  their  circle. 


CHAPTER   VII 

T  IMMY'S  original  intention  had  been  to  take  a 
**  couple  of  rooms  of  which  Douglas  Kelly  had 
told  him.  They  were  somewhere  in  that  queer 
maze  of  little  streets  and  courts  which  lies  at  the 
back  of  Fleet  Street,  and  would  have  suited  him 
admirably.  But  May  had  objected  strongly  to 
the  idea.  No  one  they  knew  had  ever  dwelt  in 
such  a  quarter;  and  both  she  and  Henry  agreed 
that  it  was  not  the  thing  for  any  young  man, 
especially  for  a  young  man  of  Jimmy's  tempera- 
ment, to  live  in  a  place  where  nobody  would  know 
what  he  was  doing,  or  what  hours  he  kept.  So  she 
had  written  to  a  former  maid  of  hers,  who  had 
married  and  settled  in  a  South  London  suburb, 
and  arranged  for  her  to  board  and  lodge  Jimmy 
for  a  fixed  weekly  sum. 

Jimmy  had  given  in  reluctantly,  though  he  had 
not  shown  his  reluctance  openly.  Abroad,  he  had 
gone  his  own  way,  doing  just  as  it  seemed  good 
to  him ;  but  in  England  it  was  different.  He  was 
not  afraid  of  his  owp.  people;  but  he  was  anxious 
not  to  shock  them  in  any  way;  and,  at  the  same 
time,  contact  with  them  had  brought  back 

66 


PEOPLE   OF    POSITION  67 

much  of  his  respect  for  those  conventions  which 
had  governed  his  boyhood.  He  was  a  Bohemian 
by  habit,  and  largely  so  by  nature,  yet  when  he  was 
amongst  those  who  lived  settled  lives  their  influence 
and  example  seemed  to  revive  some  latent  instinct 
of  staid  respectability  within  himself,  and,  to  a 
certain  extent,  he  came  to  see  things  with  their 
eyes.  True,  the  phase  passed  quickly,  so  quickly 
that  often  during  the  ensuing  months  his  own  peo- 
ple wondered  whether  he  were  not  a  hypocrite. 
They  were  used  to  men  with  fixed  temperaments, 
men  you  could  rely  upon  to  maintain  a  suitable 
standard  of  propriety.  The  other  kinds  they 
ignored  socially,  as  they  certainly  would  have  ig- 
nored Jimmy,  had  he  not  been  of  their  own  blood ; 
"but  they  belonged  to  a  class  which  reckons  family 
as  second  only  to  property,  which,  though  it  may 
quarrel  with  its  relations,  always  remembers  the 
relationship,  and  the  sacred  right  of  interference 
which  relationship  gives. 

Jimmy's  new  lodgings  were  half  an  hour's  jour- 
ney from  the  City.  You  reached  them  by  means 
of  an  uncleanly  train,  whose  driver  seemed  to  be 
perpetually  on  the  look-out  for  an  excuse  to  stop 
with  a  jolt.  You  got  out — usually  ten  minutes 
late — at  a  smoke-grimed  station,  and  emerged  into 
a  wide  thoroughfare,  lined  on  either  side  with 
shops  of  the  margarine-and-spot-cash  variety,  and 


68  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

horrible  with  the  screeching  and  rattling  of  gigan- 
tic municipal  trams,  which  appeared  to  run  solely 
for  the  pleasure  of  the  motorman  and  conductor. 
The  third  turning  on  the  right  and  then  the  second 
on  the  left  brought  you  to  Mrs.  Benn's  house,  semi- 
detached and  severe  looking,  with  heavy  curtains 
and  a  brass  plate  on  a  front  door  bearing  the  sin- 
gle word  "  Apartments." 

Jimmy  groaned  inwardly  as  the  cab  drew  up  at 
the  little  iron  gate,  and  he  wished,  once  more, 
that  he  had  not  given  way  to  his  sister.  A  band, 
obviously  the  product  of  a  happy  and  musical 
Fatherland,  was  just  packing  up  its  music  stands 
some  fifty  yards  lower  down  the  street;  whilst, 
as  he 'mounted  the  steps  of  the  house,  two  Dagos 
appeared  round  the  next  corner,  trundling  a  piano 
organ,  on  the  top  of  which  was  seated  what  was 
apparently  a  small  and  long-tailed  relative  of  their 
own.  His  rooms,  however — two  on  the  first  floor 
— though  small,  were  quite  cheerful  for  their  kind, 
whilst  the  meat  tea,  which  the  landlady  presently 
brought  up,  was  distinctly  promising. 

He  had  no  stuff  of  his  own,  beyond  the  clothes  in 
his  trunks,  not  even  a  book  or  a  photograph ;  and 
during  his  wandering  days  the  lack  of  such  things 
had  never  struck  him;  but  now  he  found  himself 
registering  a  mental  vow  to  buy  some  pictures  as 
soon  as  possible,  if  only  to  have  an  excuse  for 


PEOPLE  OF   POSITION  69 

banishing  the  German  reproductions  of  mid-Vic- 
torian art  which  disfigured  the  walls  of  his  sitting- 
room.  The  painters  of  the  originals  had  all  borne 
great  names,  or  at  least  had  been  accounted  great 
in  their  generation;  but  as  he  sat  smoking  after 
tea,  and  staring  at  these  glazed  abominations,  he 
wondered  who  had  been  the  greater  sinner,  the 
English  artist  or  the  Teutonic  engraver;  probably 
the  former,  he  told  himself,  for,  after  all,  the  lat- 
ter had  only  spoiled  what  detail  there  might  have 
been;  he  had  copied  the  smugness  and  the  false 
sentiment,  perhaps  rejoiced  in  them  as  being  essen- 
tially the  products  of  Teutonic  thought,  but  it  had 
been  the  Englishman  who  had  put  that  smugness 
on  to  the  canvas  in  the  first  case. 

Unfortunately,  it  was  easier  to  want  new  pic- 
tures than  to  get  them,  even  though  they  might 
cost  but  a  few  shillings  apiece.  Jimmy's  total 
capital  amounted  to  a  bare  fifteen  pounds,  and  his 
means  of  subsistence  so  far  appeared  to  consist 
of  the  introduction  to  Dodgson  of  the  Record. 
Not  that  the  fact  troubled  him  greatly.  A  more 
sanguine  man  would  have  been  haunted  by  the  fear 
of  his  money  giving  out  before  any  earnest  of 
future  success  came  to  him ;  a  less  experienced  man 
would  never  have  dreamed  of  making  the  attempt 
at  all ;  but  Jimmy  was  used  to  being  hard  pressed 
for  cash,  and  had  learnt  in  a  rough  school  not  to 


70  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

expect  very  much.    He  was  used  to  drifting,  and, 
in  any  case,  he  had  practically  nothing  to  lose. 

On  the  first  morning  Jimmy  went  out  to  have 
a  look  at  the  neighbourhood,  but  after  an  hour's 
walk  he  had  seen  enough  to  kill  any  desire  he 
might  have  felt  for  further  exploration.  The 
whole  district  was  prosaic  and  unlovely,  saturated 
with  the  spirit  of  municipal  government.  There 
were  rows  and  rows  of  jerry-built  houses  running 
at  right  angles  to  the  High  Street,  houses  with 
small  rooms  and  big  rates,  occupied  by  tired-look- 
ing men  who  hurried  to  the  station  about  half-past 
eight  every  morning,  and  did  not  get  back  again 
till  after  seven  in  the  evening,  when  you  would 
meet  them  walking  homewards  rather  slowly, 
shuffling  a  little  perhaps,  as  overworked  clerks  are 
prone  to  do,  and  still  carrying  the  halfpenny  paper 
which  they  had  bought  on  their  way  to  town. 
They  had  read  every  word  in  it,  and  their  wives 
would  be  too  busy,  or  too  worn-out,  to  give  it  a 
glance;  but  still  it  had  a  value  as  fire-lighting 
material.  Halfpennies  were  not  negligible  factors 
in  those  desirable  villa  residences.  You  could  see 
that  when  the  women  folk  went  out  to  do  their 
morning  shopping.  Some  of  them  were  flashily- 
smart,  some,  most  perhaps,  drab  and  weary  like 
their  husbands;  but  all  had  to  pay  cash  to  those 
prosperous  tradesmen  in  the  High  Street,  every 


PEOPLE   OF    POSITION  71 

one  of  whom  looked  like  a  councillor,  or,  at  the 
very  least,  a  guardian,  having  the  air  of  growing 
rich  at  the  expense  of  the  multitude. 

There  seemed  to  be  a  council  school,  aggres- 
sive in  its  hideousness,  up  every  second  side  street; 
the  grinding  whirr  of  the  municipal  trams  was 
always  in  your  ears,  to  remind  you  of  the  poverty 
of  the  neighbourhood  in  case  your  eyes  should 
play  you  false,  that  worst  form  of  poverty  which 
has  to  wear  a  decent  black  suit  and  possesses  the 
mockery  of  a  vote;  whilst  the  only  alternative  to 
the  pavements — laid  by  a  councillor-contractor, 
and  kept  in  repair  by  means  of  a  special  rate — 
was  the  recreation  ground,  in  which  a  plethoric 
and  guardian-like  official  spent  his  days  in  keeping 
the  embryo  ratepayers  off  the  sacrosanct  municipal 
grass.  You  felt  you  were  in  the  clutch  of  a  horri- 
ble machine,  or  rather  of  two  machines,  unallied 
perhaps,  yet  very  similar  in  operation,  for  both 
took  as  much  as  possible  and  grudged  giving  any- 
thing in  return.  From  nine  till  six  you  were  part 
of  the  mechanism  of  the  City,  wearing  yourself 
out  for  the  bare  means  of  subsistence,  often  with- 
out the  slightest  hope  of  further  advancement, 
always  with  the  dread  of  dismissal  as  soon  as  your 
hair  began  to  turn  grey,  when  a  younger,  cheaper 
man,  or  a  German  volunteer,  would  take  your 
place.  There  was  nothing  in  the  present,  save  the 


72  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

eternal  necessity  for  economy;  nothing  in  the 
future,  save  the  fear  of  unemployment.  At  night, 
you  returned  home,  to  be  gripped  by  the  municipal 
Frankenstein's  monster,  which  you  and  your  fel- 
lows had  helped  to  make.  You  were  never  a  free 
man,  you  never  could  be  free;  because  in  London 
the  price  of  freedom  is  usually  starvation  for  your 
children  and  prison  for  yourself,  if  you  cannot 
satisfy  the  demands  of  the  "  Guardians  of  the 
Poor." 

Jimmy  smiled  grimly  to  himself  as  he  noted  the 
new  Town  Hall.  He  had  met  a  good  many  rob- 
ber-politicians during  his  wanderings  in  the  Dago 
Republics;  but  all  of  them  had,  at  least,  the  saving 
grace  of  frankness.  The  aim  and  end  of  their 
policy  was  to  arrive  safely  in  Paris,  with  the  con- 
tents of  the  national  treasury  as  their  baggage. 
They  did  not  hunger  after  honours,  such  as  knight- 
hoods, or  aspire  to  speak  at  Sunday  afternoon 
gatherings  in  pseudo-places  of  worship.  Cer- 
tainly, they  told  a  number  of  flamboyant  false- 
hoods before  getting  into  office,  but  that  was  the 
only  respect  in  which  they  copied  civilised  political 
methods;  and  they  did  run  a  risk  from  which 
their  English  counterparts  would  have  shrunk  in 
a  cold  sweat  of  fear.  The  price  of  failure  was 
death. 
The  one  tour  of  inspection  satisfied  Jimmy.  He 


PEOPLE  OF    POSITION  73 

saw  the  tragedy  underlying  the  lives  of  these  peo- 
ple, saw  it  far  more  clearly,  perhaps,  than  they 
did  themselves,  for  he  had  known  so  many  other 
phases,  whilst  they  were  inured  to  the  drab  monot- 
ony, most  had  been  born  to  it,  and  so  its  full  mean- 
ing was  mercifully  hidden  from  them.  They 
would  have  waxed  wrath  at  hearing  it  called  a 
poor  locality,  in  fact  it  was  not  one,  being  emi- 
nently respectable,  as  any  house  agent  could  tell 
you.  Why,  the  late  mayor,  who  died  during  his 
third  term  of  office,  had  left  nearly  a  hundred 
thousand  pounds. 

For  three  days  Jimmy  wrote  steadily,  doing 
no  less  than  five  articles  of  the  type  which  the 
Record  had  accepted.  One  he  sent  to  Dodgson, 
the  others  to  papers  which  Douglas  Kelly  had 
mentioned,  and  then,  suddenly,  inspiration  seemed 
to  fail  him.  He  could  not  write  a  line,  could  not 
even  think  of  a  subject;  and,  for  a  whole  day, 
he  felt  something  nearly  akin  to  dismay.  If  his 
ideas  ran  out  as  quickly  as  this  his  prospects  were 
small  indeed;  and  when  the  postman  brought  back 
two  of  his  manuscripts,  with  printed  slips  con- 
veying the  editor's  thanks  and  regrets,  he  began 
to  curse  his  own  folly  in  ever  coming  home. 

That  evening,  the  craving  for  companionship 
he  had  felt  in  the  hotel  the  night  he  landed  came 
tack  to  him  again.  He  had  spoken  to  no  one, 


74  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

save  his  landlady,  for  the  better  part  of  a  week, 
and  the  loneliness  seemed  unbearable.  He  sent 
his  supper  away,  practically  untasted,  then,  with- 
out giving  Mrs.  Benn  a  chance  to  come  up  and 
comment  on  the  smallness  of  his  appetite,  took  his 
hat  and  went  out. 

It  was  Early  Closing  Day,  and  the  High  Street 
was  thronged,  mainly  with  the  liberated  shop 
assistants.  Jimmy  walked  slowly,  and,  owing 
perhaps  to  that  fact,  he  got  more  than  one  glance, 
encouraging  him  to  begin  an  acquaintance  with 
young  ladies  in  cheap  and  showy  raiment.  But 
none  of  them  made  the  slightest  appeal  to  him. 
He  had  no  taste  for  an  insipid  flirtation  with  a 
girl  who  would  probably  play  havoc  with  the  aspir- 
ates. He  had  met  many  women  far  less  innocent 
than  these,  and  there  had  been  more  than  one 
passage  in  his  life  which  he  did  not  recall  with 
pride;  and  yet,  withal,  he  was  still  fastidious  where 
women  were  concerned.  The  only  one  who  had 
interested  him  since  his  return  home  was  the  girl 
whom  he  had  seen  entering  the  cab  in  the  Strand. 
Somehow,  her  face  remained  fixed  in  his  memory, 
and  many  times  since  that  evening  he  had  found 
himself  wondering  who  she  was,  what  her  story 
could  be. 

He  walked  down  to  the  bottom  of  the  High 
Street,  to  where  the  trams  swerved  round  a  cor- 


75 

ner  with  a  whirr  and  a  jolt  into  the  domain  of 
the  next  borough  council.  There  was  a  large  pub- 
lic house  at  that  point,  with  much  brass  work  and 
mahogany  about  its  swing  doors,  and  he  turned  in, 
not  so  much  because  he  wanted  anything  to  drink, 
but  because  it  seemed  the  obvious  alternative  to 
the  dreariness  of  his  own  rooms  or  the  boredom  of 
the  street. 

The  presiding  deity  welcomed  him  with  the 
smile  she  reserved  for  new  customers.  Trade  was 
not  very  brisk  in  the  saloon  bar — there  were  eight 
other  licensed  houses  in  the  street — and  she  tossed 
her  peroxide-dyed  curls  and  flashed  her  new  teeth 
at  him  as  she  poured  out  his  whisky. 

"  You  look  pretty  doleful  about  something,"  she 
remarked. 

Jimmy  laughed.  "  I  was  till  I  came  in  here." 
Then  he  began  to  chat  to  her,  about  nothing  in 
particular,  and  somehow  the  time  passed  so  quickly 
that  it  was  closing  time  before  he  took  his  leave. 
She  had  not  interested  him  in  the  least;  but  she 
was  someone  to  talk,  to,  and  the  five  or  six  drinks 
he  had  taken  had  cheered  him  up  temporarily.  It 
was  only  when  he  got  out  into  the  now-emptying 
street  that  he  remembered  that  he  had  not  got  a 
latchkey. 

Mrs.  Benn  was  sitting  up  for  him,  and  received 
him  with  a  rather  sour  face. 


76  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

"  I  didn't  know  you  was  going  to  be  late,  sir," 
she  said  severely.  "Mrs.  Marlow  wrote  that  you 
would  always  be  in  in  good  time." 

Jimmy  muttered  an  apology  and  took  his  candle. 
On  the  top  stair  of  the  first  flight  he  caught  his 
foot  in  a  loose  piece  of  carpet,  and  stumbled, 
dropping  the  candlestick,  which  broke  off  at  the 
base.  In  silence,  Mrs.  Benn  fetched  another,  and 
handed  it  to  him  with  an  air  of  resignation,  then, 
"  You'll  be  sur-e  and  put  it  out  safe,  sir,"  she  said. 

Jimmy  saw  what  was  in  her  mind,  and  laughed, 
though  there  was  a  note  of  annoyance  in  his  voice 
as  he  attempted  to  reassure  her ;  but  his  annoyance 
would  have  changed  to  wrath  had  he  known  that 
the  early  post  next  morning  carried  a  letter  to 
May  describing  how  he  returned  home  the  worse 
for  liquor. 


CHAPTER   VIII 

"*HE  morning  post  consisted  of  a  manuscript 
returned  from  the  Daily  'Herald.  Jimmy 
tossed  the  package  on  to  the  side  table,  with  an 
exclamation  of  disgust,  not  even  troubling  to  ascer- 
tain if  there  were  any  enclosure  beyond  the  ordi- 
nary printed  slip.  Then,  suddenly,  he  decided  to 
go  up  to  town  to  see  if  he  could  find  Douglas 
Kelly. 

"Will  you  be  late  again,  sir?"  Mrs.  Benn 
asked,  severely. 

"  I  think  not,"  Jimmy  answered,  then,  remem- 
bering his  former  experience  with  Kelly,  he  added, 
"still  you  might  let  me  have  a  latchkey  on  the 
chance.  I  meant  to  have  asked  you  for  one  be- 
fore." 

Mrs.  Benn  sighed,  fumbled  in  a  pocket,  took  a 
key  off  her  own  bunch,  and  handed  it  to  her  lodger 
with  an  air  of  resignation. 

"  Mrs.  Marlow  said  as  you  would  always  be 
in  early."  She  repeated  her  remark  of  the  pre- 
vious evening.  "  But  if  you  are  going  to  be  late, 
sir,  I  must  ask  you  to  be  very  careful  with  the 
candle.  One  does  read  of  such  awful  things, 

77 


78  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

folks  burnt  in  their  beds.  I'm  sure  I'm  afraid 
to  look  at  the  papers  in  these  days." 

Jimmy  tried  to  laugh,  but  the  sound  spoke  of 
irritation  rather  than  of  amusement.  "  I  don't 
think  you  need  be  afraid  of  me,  Mrs.  Benn,  though 
I  did  twist  my  ankle  on  that  loose  piece  of  carpet 
last  night." 

The  landlady  sniffed,  and  descended  to  the  base- 
ment, where  she  relieved  her  feelings,  and  con- 
veyed a  moral  lesson,  by  smacking  the  head  of 
her  youngest  son,  who  was  not  wearing  his  Band 
of  Hope  ribbon. 

"  Poor  children,  can't  they  keep  sober  without 
joining  a  temperance  society?"  a  young  lady 
lodger  had  once  said,  with  a  show  of  sympathy, 
and  since  then  the  badges  had  not  been  greatly 
in  evidence;  but  now  they  should  be  brought  out 
again  as  a  rebuke  to  Mrs.  Marlow's  brother. 

Jimmy  went  to  the  club  which  he  knew  Kelly 
used  most,  but  the  journalist  was  not  there.  The 
waiter  on  duty  surveyed  the  caller  critically 
through  a  window,  then,  having  grown  grey  and 
wise  in  the  ways  of  literary  men,  he  decided  that 
Jimmy  was  not  a  creditor,  and  volunteered  some 
information.  "Mr.  Kelly's  not  been  in  yet,  sir; 
but  he's  sure  to  come  to  get  his  letters.  So  you 
might  call  again." 

Jimmy  strolled  about  until  two  o'clock — he  was 


PEOPLE   OF    POSITION  79 

not  of  the  kind  which  calls  just  before  lunch-time 
--then  went  back  to  the  club. 

"  Not  in  yet,  sir,"  the  waiter  said.  "  But  he 
may  come  about  four  o'clock  for  a  cup  of  tea.  He 
usually  does,  if  he's  in  town." 

Jimmy  sighed.  He  was  sick  of  waiting  about; 
but  he  craved  for  the  society  of  someone  he  knew, 
and  the  idea  of  going  back  to  spend  the  rest  of  the 
day  in  those  suburban  lodgings  seemed  intolerable. 
So  he  decided  to  wait,  and  walked  down  the  nar- 
row side  street  into  the  Strand,  and  thence  west- 
wards, in  more  or  less  aimless  fashion.  He  had 
never  known  town  sufficiently  well  to  note  the 
changes  which  the  last  ten  years  had  brought;  pos- 
sibly, they  would  not  have  interested  him  greatly 
in  any  case,  for  he  was  a  Londoner  by  birth,  and 
the  true  Londoner  looks  at  the  people  and  ignores 
the  buildings. 

He  walked  slowly,  up  to  Piccadilly  Circus,  and 
thence  along  Regent  Street  to  Oxford  Circus, 
where  he  turned  eastwards  again. 

"  Are  you  saved  ?  "  A  tall  gaunt  man,  in  shabby 
clerical  costume  and  black  woollen  gloves,  whis- 
pered the  words  in  his  ear,  endeavoured  to  thrust 
a  tract  into  his  hand,  then  hurried  on  towards  the 
Circus.  Jimmy  looked  round  quickly  to  see  him 
repeat  the  process  with  an  obviously  astonished 
German,  then  forgot  all  about  the  crank  and  his 


80  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

ways,  for,  coming  up  behind  him,  clad  just  as  she 
had  been  the  night  he  saw  her  getting  into  the 
cab  in  the  Strand,  was  the  tall  girl  whose  face  had 
been  haunting  his  memory. 

Jimmy  turned  aside  quickly  and  stared  into  a 
shop  whilst  she  was  passing,  then  started  to  follow 
her  at  a  little  distance,  not  with  the  least  idea  of 
making  her  acquaintance,  but  because  some  curi- 
ous instinct  seemed  to  compel  him  to  do  so.  She 
was  walking  rather  fast,  holding  her  head  erect, 
and  looking  neither  to  the  right  nor  to  the  left; 
and,  a  moment  later,  Jimmy  saw  the  reason,  for, 
just  behind  her,  obviously  dogging  her  steps,  was 
a  great,  overdressed  African  native,  typical  of 
those  who  are  sent  by  scores  to  England,  to  have 
a  so-called  education  wasted  on  them,  sensual  and 
lickerous  savages,  who  may  be  quite  admirable  as 
carriers  in  the  West  Coast  jungles,  but  are  wholly 
abominable  when  allowed  loose  in  the  streets  of 
London. 

In  common  with  every  sane  Englishman  who 
has  travelled,  Jimmy  had  no  illusions  left  on  the 
colour  question.  To  him,  the  bare  idea  of  a  col- 
oured man  speaking  to  a  white  woman  was  horri- 
ble, and  here  was  the  worst  form  of  coloured  man, 
the  son  of  the  cannibal  and  the  devil-worshipper, 
trying  to  force  himself  on  a  white  girl.  Jimmy 
went  hot  suddenly,  a  woman  who  was  passing  gave 


PEOPLE  OF    POSITION  81 

a  little  gasp  as  she  saw  the  look  in  his  eyes;  then 
he  quickened  his  pace  to  catch  up  the  two  in  front, 
coming  behind  them  in  time  to  see  the  native 
deliberately  jostle  the  girl,  then  raise  his  glossy 
silk  hat  with  a  lascivious  smile  and  begin  an  apol- 
ogy. With  flaming  cheeks,  the  girl  turned  quickly, 
coming  face  to  face  with  Jimmy;  but  her  persecu- 
tor's blood  was  up,  and  he  followed,  still  hat  in 
hand.  In  a  moment,  Jimmy  saw  red,  and,  almost 
before  he  knew  what  he  was  doing,  he  had  caught 
the  other  on  the  point  of  the  jaw  with  his  fist. 
The  black  man  staggered,  but  recovered  himself, 
and  for  an  instant  it  looked  as  though  he  were 
going  to  show  fight;  but  his  colour  told,  and  he 
looked  round  for  a  line  of  retreat,  just  as  a  police- 
man, seeing  the  rapidly-gathering  knot  of  specta- 
tors, came  up  to  investigate. 

Jimmy,  white-faced  and  fierce-eyed,  listened  in 
contemptuous  silence  whilst  the  coloured  man  was 
giving  his  version,  which  was  corroborated  by  a 
rather  long-haired  person  with  a  small  white  tie, 
who  professed  to  have  seen  the  incident. 

"  This  person  " — he  indicated  Jimmy  with  a 
wave  of  a  podgy  hand — "  this  person  struck  the 
dark  gentleman  a  most  cruel  blow,  entirely  un- 
provoked. I  shall  be  most  happy  to  give  evi- 
dence," and  he  produced  a  card,  a  printed  one, 
stating  that  he  was  the  Rev.  Silas  Lark,  whilst 


82  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

the  address  indicated  that  his  business  was  the 
conversion  of  the  heathen. 

The  constable  gave  him  a  keen  look,  and  took 
the  slip  of  pasteboard  rather  doubtfully.  "  I  see," 
he  said,  then  he  turned  to  Jimmy.  u  What  have 
you  got  to  say  to  it  all,  sir?  " 

Jimmy  told  his  story  in  a  few  words,  then  he 
glanced  round  to  where  the  girl  had  been  stand- 
ing; but,  with  a  mingled  sense  of  disappointment 
and  relief,  he  saw  that  she  had  slipped  away.  "  I 
don't  want  to  bring  the  lady's  name  into  it,  of 
course,"  he  added,  as  he  gave  his  own  name  and 
address. 

"  Now,  then,  move  on  there."  The  constable 
closed  his  notebook  and  dispersed  the  little  crowd ; 
then  he  turned  to  Jimmy  again,  "  I  don't  expect 
you'll  hear  any  more  of  this,  sir.  We've  had  one 
or  two  complaints  about  that  black  man  and  his 
friends,  and  as  for  the  Reverend  Mr.  Silas,"  he 
smiled,  grimly,  "  we've  been  told  to  watch  him  as 
a  pickpocket."  He  glanced  at  Jimmy  again. 
"  You  look  as  if  you've  come  from  abroad,  sir, 
or  else  I  shouldn't  have  told  you  so  much.  Take 
it  from  me,  Oxford  Street  is  just  alive  with  wrong 
'uns  in  the  afternoon,  women  as  well  as  men." 
Then  he  drew  himself  up,  and  went  on  to  superin- 
tend the  raising  of  a  fallen  cab-horse,  which  served 
also  to  draw  off  the  few  who  were  still  staring  at 


PEOPLE  OF    POSITION  83 

Jimmy.  He  was  looking  for  the  tall  girl;  and,  a 
moment  later,  he  was  rewarded  by  seeing  her  com- 
ing out  of  a  tea-shop  with  a  paper-bag  in  her  hand. 
She  gave  him  a  frank  little  smile  of  recognition, 
and,  emboldened,  he  raised  his  hat  and  went  up  to 
her. 

"  Thank  you  so  much,"  she  said.  "  I — I  hope 
there  won't  be  trouble  for  you.  I  couldn't  be  in 
it,  you  see,  so  I  slipped  in  there  on  the  excuse  of 
buying  a  bun." 

"  Oh,  it'll  be  all  right,"  Jimmy  answered  lightly. 
"  I  don't  mind  paying  a  fine  for  the  pleasure  of 
teaching  a  nigger  manners,"  then,  seeing  she 
looked  tired  and  upset,  he  asked  suddenly,  "  Will 
you  come  and  have  some  tea  in  here?  "  indicating 
a  large  restaurant  they  were  passing. 

The  girl  nodded.  "  Thank  you.  I  should  like 
some,"  she  answered  simply.  Her  voice  was  sweet 
and  refined,  and,  seeing  her  closely,  Jimmy  found 
that  she  was  even  better-looking  than  he  had  imag- 
ined, whilst  her  carriage  was  perfection. 

Nothing  more  was  said  until  they  were  seated  at 
one  of  the  little  tables  in  the  palm  court,  then,  sud- 
denly, "  Oh,  how  I  loathe  those  black  men."  She 
brought  the  words  out  with  a  little  shudder. 
"  There  are  three  or  four  of  them  haunt  Oxford 
Street." 

"Are  you  often  about  town?"  Jimmy  asked. 


84  PEOPLE   OF  POSITION 

She  looked  at  him  with  a  kind  of  grave  surprise ; 
then  she  turned  away  as  she  answered,  "  I  am 
always  about  town.  I  have  to  be.  You  under- 
stand?" Her  voice  was  very  low,  but  the  words 
were  perfectly  distinct. 

Unconsciously,  Jimmy  twisted  his  gloves  in  his 
two  hands  so  fiercely  that  one  of  them  tore  nearly 
in  half.  The  daylight  seemed  to  have  gone  sud- 
denly, leaving  the  gilding  of  the  place  dull  and 
heavy.  He  understood.  Her  words  had  killed 
all  the  romance  of  their  meeting;  yet,  when  he 
looked  at  her  again,  he  could  hardly  believe  she 
was  speaking  the  truth. 

The  waiter  brought  the  tea,  and  she  poured 
it  out,  with  far  more  grace  of  manner  and  move- 
ment than  Mrs.  Marlow  would  have  shown. 
Moreover,  she  made  no  affectation  about  not  want- 
ing the  dainty  little  sandwiches  and  cakes.  "  They 
are  so  delicious  that  I  feel  it's  a  sin  to  leave  them," 
she  said,  when  he  declared  h-e  would  have  no  more. 

"What  is  your  name?"  he  asked  abruptly, 
breaking  what  had  been  rather  a  long  silence. 
She  was  dusting  some  minute  crumbs  off  her  dress, 
and  she  answered  without  looking  up,  "  Penrose, 
Lalage  Penrose." 

She  did  not  ask  for  his  name,  but  he  volunteered 
it;  then,  "  May  I  come  and  see  you?  "  he  added. 

The  girl  hesitated  a  moment.    "Why  not?" 


PEOPLE   OF    POSITION  85 

she  asked  at  last,  but  she  flushed  at  her  own  words, 
and  her  hand  was  unsteady  as  she  wrote  down  the 
address,  which  was  one  of  a  block  of  flats  near 
Baker  Street. 

"  Can  I  come  to-morrow  afternoon?" 

She  nodded  and  got  up.  At  the  entrance  of  the 
restaurant  she  stopped  and  held  out  her  hand. 
"  Good-bye,  and  thank  you." 

"It's  only  au  revoir,  isn't  it?"  he  answered, 
as  he  raised  his  hat,  then  without  looking  back, 
for  fear  she  would  think  he  was  watching  her, 
he  walked  away  rapidly,  his  feelings  a  mixture  of 
elation  and  of  something  very  nearly  akin  to 
misery. 

Douglas  Kelly  was  in  when  Jimmy  called  again 
at  the  club.  "The  waiter  gave  me  your  card  and 
I  supposed  you  would  come  along  soon.  You 
look  a  bit  doleful.  What  are  you  going  to  drink? 
.  .  .  That  was  a  good  article  of  yours  in  the 
Whitehall  Gazette  this  evening." 

Jimmy  set  his  glass  down  suddenly.  "  I  haven't 
seen  it;  in  fact,  I  was  expecting  to  find  the  manu- 
script waiting  for  me  when  I  got  back." 

Kelly  laughed.  "  So  that's  the  reason  of  the 
dumps?  The  postman  drops  'em  through  the  let- 
ter-box with  a  kind  of  sickening  thud,  and  you 
feel  there's  nothing  left  to  live  for,  unless  it's  to 
kill  the  editor.  I  went  through  it  all,  until  I  made 


86  PEOPLE    OF   POSITION 

'em  understand  they  must  have  my  signature  at  my 
own  price.  Still,  you  haven't  done  so  badly  in  the 
few  days  you've  been  home.  Dodgson  tells  me 
they've  got  another  article  of  yours  in  type.  Here, 
Romsey,"  he  hailed  a  man  who  had  just  come  in, 
whose  face-  somehow  seemed  familiar  to  Jimmy, 
"  I  want  to  introduce  you  to  an  old  colleague  of 
mine,  Grierson,  who  is  going  to  knock  spots  out 
of  you  all." 

The  new-comer  grinned.  "  I've  seen  him  knock- 
ing spots  out  a  nigger  in  Oxford  Street  already. 
It'll  be  in  the  next  edition  of  the  Evening  Post, 
*  Outrageous  assault  on  an  African  Prince.'  I 
happened  to  be  passing  and  got  seven  shillings- 
worth  of  copy  out  of  it,"  he  added,  turning  to 
Jimmy.  "  I  left  your  name  out,  though.  But, 
you  see,  the  Evening  Post  believes  in  a  man  and  a 
brother,  and  sacks  its  boys  if  it  finds  they  have 
been  vaccinated;  so  the  story  exactly  suited  them. 
The  Prince,  too,  has  just  sold  the  gold-mining 
rights  of  his  native  swamp,  and  has  held  a  recep- 
tion in  Exeter  Hall,  so  he  in  himself  was  good  stuff 
for  us."  Then  he  gave  Kelly  a  moderately  truth- 
ful account  of  what  had  occurred. 

Kelly  did  not  laugh.  "  It  won't  go  down  here, 
Jimmy,  that  sort  of  thing.  Of  course  you  were 
right;  it's  an  abominable  scandal  to  let  these  nig- 
gers loose ;  but  at  home  people'll  never  understand 


PEOPLE  OF   POSITION  87 

it.  If  your  name  were  to  come  out,  you  would 
be  done,  right  away.  And,"  he  looked  at  him 
keenly,  "your  lady  friends  should  know  better 
than  to  be  alone  in  that  part  of  Oxford  Street. 
Well,  Romsey,  are  you  going  to  pay  for  the  drinks 
out  of  your  seven  shillings,  or  am  I?  Then  I'm 
going  to  put  Jimmy  up  for  the  cluB,  and  you  can 
second  him." 


pHAT  day  Jimmy  did  not  go  back  to  his  lodg- 
ings.  Instead,  he  sent  a  wire  to  Mrs.  Benn, 
and  went  to  dine  and  spend  the  night  with  the 
Kellys,  although  he  did  not  get  away  from  the  club 
until  he  had  been  introduced  to  a  score  of  journal- 
ists to  whom  his  host  described  him  as  an  old  col- 
league. As  a  result  they  were  an  hour  late  for 
dinner  when  they  reached  the  flat. 

"  It  doesn't  matter;  my  wife  won't  mind,"  Kelly 
remarked  cheerfully  as  they  went  up  in  the  lift, 
and,  a  few  moments  later,  when  he  met  Mrs.  Kelly 
Jimmy  saw  that  her  husband  was  speaking  the 
truth. 

Dora  Kelly  was  a  pretty,  thrifty  little  woman, 
with  a  mass  of  rather  untidy  fair  hair.  She  was 
-still  in  the  tea-gown  which,  apparently,  she  had 
been  wearing  all  the  day,  whilst  her  foot-gear  con- 
sisted of  a  pair  of  Japanese  slippers;  and  yet  the 
whole  effect  was  charming,  possibly  because  she 
was  entirely  unaffected  and  obviously  happy.  The 
flat  reflected  the  character  of  its  mistress.  It  was 
full  of  good  things,  all  in  wonderful  disarray. 
Even  the  drawing-room  had  an  air  of  having  un- 

88 


PEOPLE  OF    POSITION  89 

dergone  a  strenuous  straightening  up  a  month  pre- 
viously, since  which  event  it  had  not  been  touched 
again. 

"  Dinner  won't  be  long,  Douglas,"  Mrs.  Kelly 
said.  "  But  the  cook  went  out  at  four  o'clock  and 
hasn't  come  in  yet;  I'm  afraid  she  must  have  got 
drunk  again;  so  I  borrowed  the  Harmers'  servant," 
she  turned  to  Jimmy.  "  Servants  are  such  a 
nuisance,  Mr.  Grierson,  yet  one  daren't  discharge 
them,  and  our  cook  is  a  treasure  when  she's  sober. 
Douglas  says  you  live  in  lodgings  in  some  suburb, 
so  you  don't  have  those  worries,  I  suppose.  Here 
it's  dreadful."  She  shook  her  head  dolefully;  but 
a  moment  later  she  was  smiling  again  and  chatter- 
ing gaily  about  her  own  experiences  in  lodgings. 
She  had  been  on  the  Press  herself  prior  to  her 
marriage,  and  she  knew,  only  too  well,  the  ways 
of  the  London  landlady. 

If  he  had  not  chanced  to  saunter  up  Oxford 
Street  that  afternoon  Jimmy  would  have  enjoyed 
immensely  his  dinner  and  the  long  talk  which  fol- 
lowed it.  He  had  been  craving  for  the  society  of 
his  own  kind;  yet  now  he  had  got  it  it  did  not  seem 
such  a  very  great  thing  after  all ;  for  Lalage  Pen- 
rose  had  come  into  his  life,  and  the  thought  of  her 
was  uppermost  in  his  mind.  Even  whilst  he  was 
talking  over  old  times  with  Kelly,  or  listening  to 
Dora  Kelly's  laughing  descriptions  of  the  strug- 


90  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

gles  of  their  early  married  life,  he  was  wondering 
how  Lalage  was  spending  the  evening,  an'd  the 
thought  was  making  him  sick  at  heart.  Mentally, 
he  cursed  himself  for  a  fool,  and  tried  hard  to 
put  the  memory  away  from  him;  but  it  was  an 
effort  all  the  time;  and  when  Kelly  finally  allowed 
him  to  go  to  bed,  long  after  midnight,  he  shut  his 
door  with  a  sigh  of  relief.  But  he  did  not  undress. 
Instead,  he  sat  in  a  big  armchair,  staring  into  the 
fire,  which,  having  been  lighted  by  the  borrowed 
servant  just  before  she  left,  a  full  three  hours  pre- 
viously, had  now  died  down  to  a  red  glow. 

He  was  a  fool,  and  he  knew  it.  The  stronger 
part  of  his  nature,  that  which  came  of  the  alien 
streak  in  his  father,  warned  him  of  the  danger  of 
thinking  seriously  of  chance  female  acquaintances, 
told  him  that  no  man  of  the  world  ever  did  so; 
whilst  to  the  Grierson  strain  in  him  anything  in 
the  way  of  an  intrigue  was  an  unpardonable  offence 
against  the  canons  of  respectability.  Douglas 
Kelly,  the  Bohemian,  and  Walter  Grierson,  the 
city  man,  would  both  have  called  him  mad,  agree- 
ing on  this  point,  if  on  none  other ;  for  they  would 
argue  that  only  a  madman  could  feel  that  he  had 
any  regard  for  a  strange  girl,  who,  by  her  own 
showing,  was  without  the  pale.  Suddenly  he  re- 
solved to  have  no  more  to  do  with  Lalage.  He 
would  destroy  her  address,  avoid  those  parts  of 


PEOPLE  OF   POSITION  91 

the  town  where  he  might  possibly  see  her,  drop 
the  acquaintance  before  it  went  any  further. 

He  got  up  suddenly,  took  the  slip  of  paper 
Lalage  had  given  him  out  of  his  pocket,  and  stood 
staring  at  words  on  it.  It  was  well-written,  in 
the  hand  of  an  educated  girl;  But  there  was  a  shaki- 
ness  in  it  which  suddenly  destroyed  all  his  wise 
resolutions,  making  an  irresistible  appeal  to  his 
chivalry.  After  all,  he  himself,  if  not  actually  an 
outcast,  was  one  of  life's  failures.  He  had  touched 
bed-rock,  more  than  once,  and  he  knew  too  much 
of  the  bitterness  of  life  to  judge  either  man  or 
woman  harshly.  It  is  only  those  who  have  never 
suffered  who  show  no  mercy  to  others. 

What  was  it  that  American  girl  had  said  to  him 
in  Iquique,  when  she  insisted  on  lending  him  one 
hundred  dollars,  the  time  he  was  absolutely  penni- 
less and  too  weak  from  fever  to  refuse?  "The 
best  thanks  you  can  give  me,  Jimmy,  will  be  to  help 
another  girl  if  you  ever  get  the  chance."  He  had 
returned  the  money  a  couple  of  months  later,  and 
he  had  neither  seen  nor  heard  of  her  again;  but 
the  memory  of  her  words  had  remained,  and  now 
he  seized  on  them  as  an  excuse  for  the  course  he 
wanted  to  follow.  And  so  the  slip  of  paper  went 
back  into  his  pocket-book,  tucked  in  carefully, 
though  he  knew  every  word  that  was  on  it;  and  he 
sat  down  again,  and  remained,  thinking  and  won- 


92  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

dering,  until  the  fire  had  ceased  to  show  even  a 
spark  of  red,  and  the  chill  of  the  room  sent  him 
shivering  to  bed,  to  dream  of  Lalage. 

Jimmy  came  out  of  his  room  at  nine  o'clock 
next  morning  to  find  Mrs.  Kelly  sweeping  the 
dining-room.  "  The  cook  has  not  come  back  yet," 
she  remarked  cheerfully.  "  I  do  hope  the  police 
haven't  taken  her,  for  she  is  really  a  treasure  when 
she's  sober.  And  I  can't  very  well  borrow  the 
Harmers'  servant  again.  So  breakfast  will  be 
late ;  but  you  said  last  night  you  weren't  In  a  hurry, 
and  Douglas  isn't  either.  Won't  you  have  a 
whisky  and  soda,  Mr.  Grierson,  whilst  you're  wait- 
ing The  decanter  is  on  the  sideboard,  or  it 
should  be — oh,  no,  I  remember,  Douglas  has  got 
it  in  the  dressing-room.  I'll  fetch  it." 

Breakfast  was  finally  over  about  eleven  o'clock. 
"We're  not  usually  so  late,  though  it's  always  a 
movable  feast,"  Mrs.  Kelly  explained,  and  then 
Douglas  prepared  to  go  down  to  the  office. 

"They  can  always  call  me  on  the  telephone  if 
they  want  me  specially,"  he  remarked,  "  and  show- 
ing my  independence  is  part  of  my  scheme.  I  don't 
think  you'll  ever  be  able  to  bluff,  Jimmy.  It  isn't 
in  you.  At  the  back  of  your  mind,  really,  you're 
staid  and  respectable,  with  a  reverence  for  those  set 
in  authority  over  you,  even  for  those  who'll  set 


PEOPLE   OF    POSITION  93 

themselves  there.  So  you'll  have  to  trust  to  the 
merit  of  your  work  alone,  and  it's  a  slow  job  get- 
ting recognition  that  way.  What  do  you  say, 
Dora?" 

Mrs.  Kelly  smiled,  and  then  suddenly  her  face 
grew  grave,  almost  sad.  "  Yes,  it  is  a  slow  job 
sometimes,"  she  said,  softly.  "  Only  Mr.  Grier- 
son's  old  enough  not  to  go  under  whilst  he's  wait- 
ing, and,  of  course,  he  has  the  knowledge.  It's 
those  raw  boys  from  the  provinces  I  pity."  She 
shook  her  head  as  if  at'  some  memory,  then  fol- 
lowed her  husband  to  the  front  door.  "  Come 
again,  Mr.  Grierson,  won't  you,"  she  said  as  she 
shook  hands.  "  Of  course,  you'll  see  Douglas 
often  at  the  club,  and  if  he  gives  me  longer  warn- 
ing I'll  make  sure  the  cook  doesn't  get  out.  Doug- 
las, dear,  you  might  ask  them  at  the  police  sta- 
tion if  they've  got  her.  I've  got  a  kind  of  creepy 
feeling  which  tells  me  that  they  have,  and,  you 
know,  the  magistrate  said  he  wouldn't  fine  her  next 
time." 

"  You're  lucky,"  Jimmy  said  abruptly,  as  they 
came  down  the  steps  of  the  mansions  into  the 
street. 

Kelly  looked  up  with  a  grin.  "  Do  you  mean 
in  having  our  cook?" 

Jimmy  disregarded  the  question,  and  went  on, 


94  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

"  Were  you  lonely  when  you  first  came  home, 
before  you  married  ?  Did  you  have  to  go  through 
it,  or  had  you  people  of  your  own?  " 

He  did  not  put  it  clearly,  but  the  other  showed 
he  understood  when  he  answered,  "  My  people 
are  all  in  the  North,  and  they're  Nonconformists 
and  teetotallers.  I  went  up  once,  and  the  gov- 
ernor and  I  quarrelled.  I  haven't  seen  them  since. 
Dora's  never  seen  them.  We  were  married  six 
months  after  I  came  home,  on  nothing.  I 
wouldn't  have  risked  it,  but  she  insisted  for  my 
sake.  I  was  at  the  old  game,  you  know." 

Jimmy  nodded.  He  understood,  remembering 
vividly  certain  wild  drinking  bouts  which,  inci- 
dentally, had  given  him  some  practical  experience 
in  newspaper  work,  for  on  more  than  one  occasion 
he  had  taken  Kelly's  place,  and  brought  out  the 
little  sheet. 

They  walked  on  a  little  way  in  silence,  then, 
"  Women  are  a  confounded  sight  better  than  we 
are,"  Kelly  jerked  out.  "They  see  so  much  fur- 
ther. We  reckon  we  are  being  unselfish  when 
we're  only  cowards;  but  they're  ready  to  back 
their  own  opinion  and  run  the  risk ;  and  when  they 
win  they  let  us  take  the  credit." 

"  Some  of  them  do,  the  right  sort.  But  there 

are  others "  Jimmy  was  thinking  of  the  girls 

to  whom  Ethel  Grimmer  had  introduced  him, 


PEOPLE  OF   POSITION  95 

those  whose  parents  had  trained  them  in  a  due 
appreciation  of  the  value  of  men  of  position. 

Kelly  stopped  suddenly  and  looked  at  him  anx- 
iously. "  James  Grierson,"  he  said,  "  I  shall  put 
you  in  a  book  some  day  when  you're  developed. 
At  present  you're  about  twenty-one  years  old  in 
many  respects.  Probably  you'll  marry  stodgily, 
or  else  you'll  go  to  the  other  extreme  and  make 
an  even  bigger  ass  of  yourself." 

Jimmy  flushed  uncomfortably,  remembering 
Lalage;  then  went  hot  at  the  thought  of  his  own 
folly.  He  had  only  spoken  to  the  girl  once. 


CHAPTER   X 

T  ALAGE  PENROSE'S  flat  was  on  the  second 
••— '  floor  of  a  small  block  of  flats  in  a  narrow  and 
grimy  street.  Opposite  the  main  entrance  was  a 
fried  fish  shop,  and  next  door  to  that  a  coal  and 
greengrocery  stores,  with  the  latest  price  per  hun- 
dredweight of  what  were  untruthfully  called  the 
"  Best  Household  Coals "  displayed  in  huge 
numerals  on  each  of  the  windows.  Unwashed 
children  from  the  uncleanly  houses  which  made 
up  the  rest  of  the  street  seemed  to  spend  the  whole 
day,  and  half  the  night,  dancing  to  barrel  organs. 
Garbage  and  paper  littered  the  roadway,  except 
where  there  was  sufficient  slimy  black  mud  to 
cover  these;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  there  was  a 
large  and  gaudy  public  house  at  the  corner,  oppo- 
site a  similar  block  of  flats,  and  a  cab  rank  just 
down  the  side  turning. 

Lalage's  flat  consisted  of  three  very  small  rooms, 
for  which  she  paid  fifty  pounds  a  year.  "  Inclu- 
sive of  rates,"  the  agent  had  said;  but,  as  the  land- 
lord himself  was  on  the  Borough  Council,  his 
assessment  was,  of  course,  not  unduly  high.  By 
trade,  the  owner  was  a  butcher  in  Maida  Vale, 

96 


PEOPLE  OF   POSITION  97 

though  his  friends  in  Tooting  did  not  know  that; 
moreover,  besides  being  a  councillor,  he  was  a  Ger- 
man by  extraction;  consequently,  with  these  two 
qualifications,  it  was  quite  natural  that  he  should 
own  flats  of  that  kind.  In  Capetown,  where  men 
are  crude  or  brutal  in  their  ways,  a  judge  and 
jury  between  them  would  probably  have  assessed 
his  merits  at  fifty  lashes  and  two  years'  hard 
labour;  in  London,  on  the  other  hand,  not  only 
was  his  person  sacred  and  his  property  safe  from 
police  raids,  but  he  also  had  reasonable  grounds 
for  expecting  to  be  mayor  in  due  course — which 
often  meant  a  knighthood — whilst  even  the  great- 
est prize  of  all,  the  chairmanship  of  the  new  Elec- 
tricity Committee,  a  body  having  the  giving  of 
six-figure  contracts,  was  not  beyond  his  grasp.  He 
was  quite  a  personage  in  the  municipal  life  of 
West  London,  as  well  as  in  the  social  life  of 
Tooting,  and,  being  a  married  man  with  a  family, 
he  treated  his  tenants  with  righteous  severity,  dis- 
training on  the  slightest  excuse  when  he  suspected 
they  possessed  anything  of  value,  knowing  well 
that  his  victims  would  not  dare  seek  redress  in  the 
Courts. 

It  was  four  o'clock  exactly  when  Jimmy  knocked 
at  the  door  of  the  flat,  which  was  opened  by  Lalage 
herself.  "  I've  no  servant,"  she  explained,  "  only 
a  woman  who  comes  in  once  or  twice  a  week." 


98  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

Then  she  led  the  way  into  the  tiny  slip  of  a  sitting- 
room,  where  she  had  tea  laid  out.  "  I'm  glad 
you've  come,"  she  added,  "  I  was  half  afraid  you 
wouldn't." 

"  Why?  "  he  asked  with  a  smile. 

She  looked  at  him  seriously,  her  head  a  little 
on  one  side,  as  though  she  were  trying  to  read  his 
character.  "  You  seemed  shy,  different  from  most 
men.  Are  you  an  Englishman?  " 

He  nodded,  and  gave  her  a  brief  sketch  of  who 
he  was.  She  listened  with  evident  interest.  "  It 
must  be  splendid  to  travel  and  see  things.  I  have 

always  longed  to,  at  least  I  did  once,  but  now " 

She  broke  off  with  a  hopeless  little  sigh,  and  got 
up  abruptly.  "  I'll  fetch  the  tea  now." 

The  tea  things,  like  everything  else  in  the  place, 
were  of  the  simplest,  cheapest  kind,  yet  as  taste- 
ful as  was  possible  considering  their  price;  but, 
on  the  other  hand,  the  tea  itself  was  good,  and 
there  was  a  plate  of  daintily-cut  bread  and  butter 
and  another  of  sandwiches. 

"  I  was  so  glad  of  that  tea  yesterday."  Lalage 
looked  up  suddenly.  "  I  hadn't  had  anything  since 
some  bread  and  milk  at  breakfast  time,  and  that 
horrible  black  man  made  me  feel  quite  shaky." 

Jimmy  frowned.  "  Why  do  you  starve  yourself 
in  that  way?  "  he  asked. 

In  after  years,  he  often  thought  of  this  question 


PEOPLE   OF    POSITION  99 

and  her  answer.  He  had  been  hungry  himself 
more  than  once,  and  he  knew,  only  too  well,  what 
it  meant;  but,  somehow,  he  had  never  pictured  a 
well-dressed  girl  as  suffering  that  way. 

"  I  only  had  a  penny  left,  the  one  I  spent  on  that 
bun,  and  no  one  will  trust  you  with  as  much  as  a 
loaf  round  here.  I  was  afraid  you  would  notice 
how  greedy  I  was  at  tea."  Then,  as  he  flushed 
awkwardly  and  began  to  speak,  she  stopped  him 
with  a  little  gesture.  "  Why  should  you  have 
thought  of  it?  You  were  very  good,  as  it  was. 
And  I'm  all  right  now.  I  got  a  postal  order  last 
night,"  she  added  rather  hurriedly;  then  she 
changed  the  subject  abruptly,  and  went  on  to  talk 
of  one  or  two  matters  of  passing  interest,  which 
the  papers  had  been  booming  for  want  of  anything 
of  real  importance.  She  had  evidently  received 
an  average  education,  Jimmy  could  see  that  plainly, 
and  yet  he  was  puzzled,  for  in  many  of  her  ideas, 
and  especially  in  her  strong  prejudices,  she  belied 
her  apparent  age;  for  they  were  those  of  a  child 
of  fourteen,  rather  than  of  a  girl  of  some 
two  or  three  and  twenty.  Insensibly,  he  found 
himself  listening  to  her  as  one  would  to  a  child, 
and  then,  a  moment  later,  she  would  bring  out 
some  cynical  scrap  of  wisdom,  evidently  the  fruit 
of  bitter  experience,  which  sounded  strange  com- 
ing from  her  lips.  Yet,  despite  the  utter  uncon- 


ioo  PEOPLE   OF    POSITION 

ventionality,  there  was  no  hint  of  fastness  about 
her,  and  even  when  she  touched  by  implication  on 
her  way  of  life,  she  did  so  with  a  kind  of  frank 
simplicity,  hiding  nothing  and  trying  to  excuse 
nothing. 

"What  do  you  think  of  my  little  flat?"  she 
asked  suddenly,  after  what  had  been  rather  a  long 
pause.  "  It's  very  tiny,  of  course;  but  it's  a  home, 
and  when  you've  had  nowhere  to  go  to,  not  even  a 

lodging '  She  broke  off,  and  stared  into  the 

fire.  "  It's  simply  awful  to  have  nowhere,"  she 
went  on  after  a  while.  "  To  walk  about  hour  after 
hour  with  the  mud  squelching  through  your  shoes, 
and  nothing  to  eat;  and  getting  more  hopeless  as 
midnight  comes  on.  I  was  out  two  whole  nights." 

Jimmy  breathed  heavily;  he  had  often  heard 
the  same  sort  of  thing  from  men;  but  it  sounded 
very  different  coming  from  the  lips  of  a  girl. 

"  And  then  one  day  I  got  ten  pounds,"  Lalarge 
continued,  "  and  I  made  up  my  mind  I  would  have 
a  home.  I  paid  a  month's  rent  in  advance — they 
don't  worry  over  references  if  you  do  that — and 
I  went  to  some  hire-purchase  people  for  furniture. 
Then  I  bought  a  kettle  at  the  sixpenny  halfpenny 
shop,  and  a  cup  and  saucer  and  plate  in  the  next 
street,  where  the  barrows  are.  By  the  time  I  had 
got  curtains  and  some  sheets  and  one  or  two  odd 
things  like  a  lamp,  there  were  only  a  few  shillings 


PEOPLE  OF   POSITION  101 

left."  She  looked  up  seriously.  "You  wouldn't 
think  till  you  try  how  expensive  furnishing  is;  but 
I  was  so  proud  of  my  little  home.  I  am  still;  and 
you  know,  when  you've  a  place  of  your  own,  if 
you  only  have  bread  and  milk  no  one  is  any  the 
wiser.  I've  often  bern  hard  up  since,  but  I've  al- 
ways managed  to  scrape  up  the  rent  and  the  hire- 
purchase  instalment.  One  must  do  that ;  they  don't 
give  you  a  day's  grace." 

Jimmy  was  chewing  savagely  at  the  ends  of  his 
moustache.  It  never  entered  into  his  head  that  she 
was  trying  to  play  upon  his  sympathies.  There 
was  some  curious  quality  of  simplicity  in  her  man- 
ner which  forbade  that  supposition.  She  interested 
him  as  no  woman  had  ever  interested  him  before, 
and,  suddenly,  he  was  filled  with  a  desire  to  know 
her  past,  and,  in  that,  to  find  excuses  for  the  pres- 
ent. 

"Where  do  you  come  from?"  he  asked. 

"  Hampshire,"  she  answered,  adding,  "  My 
people  are  dead.  I'm  quite  alone  in  the  world." 
Then,  as  if  to  change  the  subject,  she  got  up  from 
her  seat.  "  You  must  have  a  look  round  my  tiny 
place." 

Jimmy  felt  almost  guilty  as  he  noted  her  obvious 
pride  in  the  few  little  articles  she  had  collected 
together.  May's  cook  would  have  rejected  with 
scorn  the  kettle  from  the  sixpenny  halfpenny 


102  PEOPLE   OF    POSITION 

bazaar,  and  the  one  or  two  pots  and  pans  which 
had  since  been  bought  at  the  same  shop;  whilst 
none  of  the  Marlow  servants  would  have  deigned 
to  use  the  thick  earthenware  plates  on  the  dresser. 
Yet  everywhere  there  was  a  perfect  cleanliness, 
which,  possibly,  those  same  servants  would  never 
have  succeeded  in  attaining  in  the  smoke-laden  at- 
mosphere of  that  street. 

"  I  do  hate  dirt  and  untidiness,"  Lalange  ex- 
plained when  he  made  a  remark  on  the  subject. 
"I  do  everything  myself,  except  the  scrubbing; 
and  I  wouldn't  have  a  woman  in  for  that  if  it  wasn't 
for  my  hands ;  I  want  to  keep  them  nice." 

She  held  them  out  for  Jimmy  to  inspect,  with  the 
first  touch  of  vanity  he  had  seen  in  her.  Perhaps, 
her  pride  was  justifiable,  for  they  were  well  worth 
looking  at,  being  small  and  perfectly  shaped.  She 
wore  no  rings,  nor,  for  the  matter  of  that,  any  jew- 
ellery at  all,  whilst  her  dress  was  of  the  simplest. 

When  they  went  back  to  the  sitting-room  he 
asked  her  the  time.  "  I  never  carry  a  watch,"  he 
said.  "  Mine  went  the  way  of  a  good  many  other 
things  when  I  was  first  knocked  out  with  fever, 
and  I've  never  managed  to  afford  another  one." 

Lalage  nodded  with  sympathetic  comprehension. 
"  I  know;  but  it's  worst  when  youVe  nothing  left 
to  pawn.  As  for  clothes,  they  give  you  nothing 
on  them,  at  least  round  here.  But  you  want  to 


PEOPLE  OF   POSITION  103 

know  the  time."  She  opened  the  window  and 
listened  a  moment.  "  It's  just  on  six.  I  can  hear 
the  periwinkle  man  coming,  and  he's  never  late. 
This  is  the  last  part  of  his  round,  you  see,  because 
he  doesn't  expect  to  sell  much  here;  then  he  goes 
to  a  stall  for  the  evening.  I  know  them  all,  and 
I  think  they  like  me,  because  I  chat  to  them.  But 
the  people  in  the  other  flats,"  she  shook  her  head 
with  an  air  of  disgust,  "  most  of  them  are  dread- 
ful; a  lot  of  horrid  foreigners,  you  know.  Still, 
the  caretaker  sees  they  don't  fight  on  the  stairs, 
and  when  I  shut  my  door,  I  feel  I  shut  them  all 
out." 

Jimmy  smiled  a  little  grimly;  he  could  picture 
those  other  tenants  and  their  ways.  Then,  "  Will 
you  put  your  hat  on,  and  we'll  go  out  and  get  some 
dinner?" 

She  reflected  a  moment.  "  Why  not  get  some- 
thing and  bring  it  in  here?  It  won't  cost  nearly 
so  much,  though  it  will  be  much  nicer.  Oh,  in 
six  months  I've  got  simply  to  loathe  the  smell  of  a 
cafe.  There's  a  nice  ham  and  beef  shop  where  we 
can  get  everything  we  want."  She  laughed  rather 
ruefully.  "  I  remember  yesterday  when  I  was  so 
hungry  looking  in  there  and  wishing  I  could  get  a 
roast  chicken  they  had,  all  beautiful  and  brown, 
you  know,  with  jelly  on  it.  But  they  wouldn't 
have  trusted  me  with  even  a  quarter  of  a  pound  of 


io4  PEOPLE   OF    POSITION 

beef.  I  suppose  they've  been  robbed  so  often. 
Well,  I'll  put  on  my  hat,  and  we'll  get  what  we 
want.  Really,  honestly,  I  would  much  sooner  have 
it  like  that  than  go  to  one  of  the  best  restaurants. 
Don't  you  yourself  think  cafes  are  hateful?" 

Jimmy  watched  her  marketing  with  a  distinct 
sense  of  admiration.  She  knew  the  local  price  of 
everything,  and  she  insisted  on  having  exactly 
what  she  ordered. 

"  I  don't  see  why  they  should  rob  you,"  she  said. 
"  They  make  huge  profits  anyway.  Now,  I  think 
that's  all  we  want."  She  ticked  the  articles  off 
on  her  fingers.  "  Oh,  unless  you  care  for  some- 
thing to  drink.  .  .  .  Yes,  I  like  a  whisky  and 
soda  with  my  meals;  but  don't  get  a  whole  bottle, 
it's  only  a  waste;  and  they  will  sell  it  you  by  the 
quartern  in  that  public  house.  I'll  wait  whilst  you 
go  in.  But  don't  buy  a  bottle ;  I  know  you  haven't 
got  any  money  to  throw  away  ?  "  he  added. 

When  he  came  out,  she  noted,  with  evident  satis- 
faction, that  he  had  obeyed  her.  "  This  will  make 
a  lovely  supper,"  she  declared,  and  her  smile 
showed  she  meant  it.  "  I  like  shopping  like  this. 
It's  always  nicer  than  a  cafe,  and  much  less  ex- 
pensive." 

Her  last  remark  reminded  him  of  what  she  had 
said  just  as  he  was  going  in  for  the  whisky. 


PEOPLE  OF   POSITION  105 

"  Why  do  you  think  I  haven't  got  any  money  to 
throw  away?"  he  asked. 

She  gave  a  wise  little  nod.  "  You  tell  me  you 
write,  and  I  know  literary  men  never  have  anything 
to  spare." 

Jimmy  laughed.    "  How  do  you  know?  " 

Lalage  turned  away.  "  Never  mind,  but  I  do 
know,  only  too  well." 


CHAPTER  XI 

*¥  HAVE  not  heard  from  you  for  several  days," 
•*•  Mrs.  Marlow  wrote  to  Jimmy,  "  though  I 
have  had  a  couple  of  letters  from  Eliza  Benn,  who 
says  that  for  two  consecutive  nights  you  did  not 
come  home.  The  first  night  you  wired  to  her,  but 
the  second  time  she  sat  up  until  after  midnight, 
fearing  lest  it  might  not  be  safe  to  let  you  have 
a  light.  I  need  not  say  how  annoying  it  is  to  hear 
these  things  from  one's  former  servants.  Both 
Henry  and  I  trust  that  you  are  not  already  getting 
into  dissipated  ways,  and  that  you  will  remember 
that  you  belong  to  a  respectable  family,  which  will 
have  to  bear  a  large  share  of  any  disgrace  into 
which  you  may  fall,  or  be  led."  Then  there  was 
a  postscript.  "  Eliza  Benn  is  a  person  for  whom 
I  have  a  great  regard ;  and  I  hear  that  her  husband 
holds  quite  an  excellent  situation  in  Mr.  Grimmer's 
salesrooms,  where  he  is  paid  thirty-five  shillings 
a  week,  which,  Henry  says,  would  only  be  given 
to  a  most  experienced  and  steady  man." 

Jimmy  tore  the  letter  across  savagely  and  tossed 
it  into  the  fire.  It  annoyed  him  the  more  because 
his  sister  had  got  within  measurable  distance  of 

1 06 


PEOPLE  OF   POSITION  107 

the  truth,  at  least  from  her  point  of  view.  He 
had  already  had  some  uncomfortable  moments 
over  the  thought  of  what  the  family  would  say 
if  it  ever  came  to  know  of  Lalage.  He  had  not 
seen  the  latter  again,  but,  though  it  was  less  than 
forty-eight  hours  since  they  had  parted,  he  had 
written  to  her  twice,  and  he  could  not  disguise 
from  himself  the  fact  that  she  filled  his  life  to 
the  exclusion  of  all  else.  No  other  woman  had 
ever  appealed  to  him  in  the  same  way.  Lalage 
had  gripped  his  imagination.  He  could  remem- 
ber every  word  she  had  said,  and,  having  been  on 
the  rocks  himself,  he  could  understand  what  she 
had  suffered — the  rain  squelching  through  the  thin 
little  shoes,  the  bitter  loneliness  of  the  great  city, 
the  meals  of  bread  and  milk  which  had  to  last 
the  whole  day,  the  passionate  longing  for  a  home 
of  some  sort.  He  did  not  attempt  to  argue  the 
thing  out  logically,  as  a  Grierson  would  have  done. 
The  thought  of  her  way  of  life  inspired  him,  not 
with  the  scorn  or  loathing  a  man  of  position  would 
have  felt,  even  when  taking  advantage  of  it,  but 
with  a  terrible,  gnawing  jealousy.  Probably,  he 
would  not  have  admitted,  even  to  himself,  that  he 
was  in  love,  for,  somehow,  the  phrase  seemed 
hopelessly  inapplicable.  It  belonged  to  the  Grier- 
son part  of  his  nature,  and  was  supposed  to  signify 
a  preliminary  to  marriage,  an  altogether  decorous 


io8  PEOPLE    OF    POSITION 

kind  of  affection  for  a  decorously-behaved  girl, 
who  had  never  been  homeless  or  hungry  or  cold. 
All  he  cared  for  now  was  to  get  Lalage  away,  to 
be  with  her  always,  and,  for  the  moment  at  least, 
anything  which  did  not  help  towards  that  end 
seemed  of  absolutely  no  importance.  He  had 
thrust  family  considerations  on  one  side,  thrust 
on  one  side  all  those  good  resolutions,  or  rather 
those  revived  instincts  of  the  past,  which  had  been 
uppermost  in  his  mind  when  he  first  came  home. 
His  own  world,  the  Griersons  and  Marlows  and 
Grimmers,  would  have  called  him  either  mad  or 
hopelessly  immoral,  according  to  the  degree  of 
charity  latent  in  their  respective  natures;  Kelly 
would  have  warned  him  bluntly  not  to  endanger 
his  prospects  by  being  a  fool;  a  mental  specialist 
would  have  explained  that  the  shock  of  John 
Locke's  death,  coming  on  top  of  the  ten  years  of 
almost  continual  overstrain  in  bad  climates,  had 
temporarily  affected  his  balance,  an  opinion  with 
which  Lalage  herself  would  have  agreed,  knowing, 
after  all,  nothing  of  men's  love;  but  neither  opin- 
ions nor  diagnosis  would  have  altered  Jimmy's 
determination. 

He  had  put  in  two  days  of  almost  savagely 
hard  work.  Without  money  he  would  be  helpless. 
True,  most  of  his  manuscripts  had  come  backj 
but  still  three  had  actually  appeared  in  print,  and 


PEOPLE   OF   POSITION  109 

he  could  feel  he  had  made  a  start.  The  old  semi- 
indifference  on  the  question  of  his  ultimate  success 
or  failure  had  vanished  completely.  He  was  in 
deadly  earnest  now;  Lalage  should  have  no  more 
bread-and-milk  days,  if  he  could  help  it. 

Mrs.  Marlow's  letter  had  arrived  by  the  first 
delivery,  in  the  cheerful  company  of  a  returned 
manuscript.  He  had  heard  from  Lalage,  her  first 
letter  to  him,  the  evening  before,  and  he  did  not 
expect  another  till  that  night;  but  when  the  second 
postman  knocked  at  the  door,  and,  a  moment  later, 
Mrs.  Benn  came  creaking  upstairs,  he  hurried  to 
meet  her,  hoping  the  envelope  might  bear  the  West 
London  postmark.  But  he  was  doomed  to  disap- 
pointment. The  letter  was  from  Ida,  his  sister 
in  Northampton.  "  When  I  heard  from  you  last 
week  you  said  any  day  this  week  would  do,"  Ida 
Fenton  wrote.  "  We  find  we  shall  be  able  to  have 
you  to-morrow,  and  hope  you  will  stay  four  or  five 
days.  The  best  train  is  one  at  2:15,  and  I  will 
meet  you  by  that,  so  you  need  not  worry  about  an- 
swering this  note.  We  are  all  looking  forward  to 
seeing  you,  and  though,  of  course  Joseph  is  at 
business  all  day,  and  the  children  at  school,  I  dare- 
say you  will  find  the  rest  do  you  good." 

Jimmy  frowned  as  he  folded  it  up  and  put  it  back 
into  the  envelope.  He  had  arranged  to  spend  the 
next  day  with  Lalage ;  they  were  going  to  have  a 


no  PEOPLE   OF    POSITION 

run  out  somewhere — "  somewhere  inexpensive,  like 
the  Crystal  Palace,"  Lalage  had  said  in  her  letter 
— and  then  they  were  going  to  have  another  of 
those  delightful  marketing  expeditions  in  the  grimy 
street  where  the  barrows  were.  Now,  all  that 
would  have  to  be  postponed.  Jimmy  would  not 
have  scrupled  greatly  about  disappointing  Ida — 
she  had  been  in  no  hurry  to  see  him — but  May's 
letter  had  shown  him  how  he  was  being  watched 
and  his  doings  reported,  and  he  did  not  want  to 
arouse  further  suspicion.  He  intended  to  move 
very  shortly,  though  his  plans  were  as  yet  but  half 
formed,  and,  moreover,  he  shrank  from  doing 
anything  which  would  offend  May.  He  might  not 
be  afraid  of  his  relations;  but  at  the  back  of  his 
mind  he  was  sufficiently  conscious  of  his  own  de- 
parture from  the  paths  of  rectitude  to  feel  the 
weakness  of  his  position. 

He  wrote  to  Lalage  that  evening,  explaining 
matters;  consequently,  she  was  not  surprised  when 
he  came  up  next  morning  carrying  a  handbag.  At 
first,  it  struck  him  that  she  was  looking  rather  pale 
and  worried,  but  she  greeted  him  with  frank  pleas- 
ure, and,  in  a  few  minutes,  she  was  her  usual  self 
again.  As  Jimmy  learned  later,  she  had  in  a  pe- 
culiar degree  the  art  of  seeing  the  best  side  of 
things.  In  a  sense,  she  was  almost  a  fatalist,  and 
though  she  made  no  disguise  about  the  regret  she 


PEOPLE  OF    POSITION  in 

felt  for  her  ruined  life,  a  moment  later  she  always 
seemed  to  put  the  regrets  aside  as  useless.  "  I  try 
to  keep  as  respectable  as  I  can,"  she  said  to 
Jimmy. 

Normal  people,  being  respectable  themselves, 
would  probably  have  sneered,  knowing  that  those 
who  have  fallen  are  all  on  the  level,  and  that  only 
in  those  far-off  days  when  He  who  pitied  the  Mag- 
dalen and  bade  the  sinless  cast  the  first  stone  trod 
the  earth  was  there  forgiveness  for  this  greatest  of 
sins.  But  Jimmy,  not  being  normal,  and  being 
anxious  to  find  excuses  for  Lalage,  did  not  sneer, 
and  before  long  he  found  that,  though  she  might 
not  be  able  to  rise  again,  she  was  determined  to 
fall  no  lower.  She  was  almost  fastidious  in  her 
hatred  of  bad  language,  and  there  was,  as  a  mat- 
ter of  fact,  an  immeasurable  distance  between  her 
and  the  German  women  who  formed  the  majority 
of  the  other  tenants. 

"  Of  course  I  am  sorry  to  have  to  go  away," 
Lalage  said  in  answer  to  Jimmy's  complaints  of 
having  to  go  to  Northampton.  "  But  still,  it's 
only  right.  Your  own  people  ought  to  come  first, 
and  I  shall  see  you  when  you  get  back,  if  you 
haven't  forgotten  me." 

Jimmy  took  both  her  hands  in  his.  "  I  shall 
never  forget  you,  Lalage,  never." 

She  shook  her  head.     "  Others  have  said  the 


ii2  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

same,  and  have  forgotten,  none  the  less.  I'm 
afraid  to  hope  too  much  sometimes,  for  fear  of 
disappointment.  It's  easier  when  you  haven't  ex- 
pected anything."  She  freed  her  hands  and  went 
across  to  the  window,  where  she  stood,  apparently 
staring  at  the  gigantic  telephone  post  on  the  roof 
opposite. 

Jimmy  came  up  behind  her.  "  Would  you  be 
sorry  if  I  were  to  forget?  "  he  asked. 

She  answered  without  looking  round,  "  Of  course 
I  should." 

"  Why  would  you  be  sorry?  "  he  went  on. 

"  Because  I  like  you  very  much.  You  are  al- 
ways gentlemanly  and  nice  in  your  ways."  Still 
she  did  not  face  him. 

"Do  you  like  anyone  else,  anyone  at  all?" 
Jimmy's  voice  was  not  very  steady. 

"  No,  no."  Now  she  turned  her  head,  and  he 
saw  that  her  eyes  were  wet.  "  There's  no  one  I 
like.  I  don't  know  why  I've  told  you  things,  only, 
somehow,  you  seemed  to  understand  how  hard  life 

is;  and  you  don't  treat  me "  she  paused  as 

though  looking  for  a  word,  "  you  don't  treat  me 
lightly.  You're  careful  to  raise  your  hat  and  open 
the  door  for  me,  and  all  those  little  things,  just 
as  though  I  were,"  her  voice  broke  slightly,  "  a 
good  girl." 

Jimmy  coloured,  and  muttered  something  which 


PEOPLE  OF   POSITION  113 

Lalage  did  not  catch,  then,  suddenly,  she  gave  a 
little  gasp  of  annoyance.  "  Jimmy,  you  left  your 
bag  in  the  hall,  and  it's  got  your  name  on  it.  The 
charwoman  was  cleaning  the  kitchen  and  now  she's 
out  in  the  hall.  Do  get  it  at  once." 

He  obeyed  her  with  obvious  surprise,  then 
looked  at  her  inquiringly.  "  Blackmail,"  she  an- 
swered simply.  "  All  these  women  round  here 
do  it  if  they  get  a  chance,  and  they  say  the  landlord 
puts  them  up  to  it.  Everyone  about  here  preys 
on  us,  in  one  way  or  another.  The  district  lives 
on  us,  tradesmen,  landlords,  agents,  even  the  gas 
and  electric  light  people;  and  when  they've  bled 
us  dry  they  seize  our  homes  and  turn  us  out.  They 
know  we  can't  go  to  law,  and  yet  whilst  they're 
robbing  us  they're  sitting  as  guardians  or  council- 
lors and  going  to  chapel  every  Sunday.  They  treat 
us  like  dirt,  and  their  wives  and  daughters  shake 
their  skirts  at  us,  and  all  the  time  it's  we  who  earn 
the  money  for  them." 

Jimmy  went  over  to  the  mantelpiece,  and  buried 
his  head  on  his  hands.  He  was  wholly  unconscious 
of  what  he  was  doing,  being  too  miserable  to  think 
of  appearances.  Lalage  watched  him  a  moment, 
then  put  her  arm  gently  round  his  neck,  and,  for 
the  first  time,  kissed  him  of  her  own  accord. 

"  What  is  it,  dear,  tell  me,"  she  said. 

"  I  can't  stand  it.    The  whole  thing's  horrible, 


ii4  PEOPLE   OF    POSITION 

abominable."  It  was  the  man's  voice  which  was 
broken  now. 

"  You  can't  help  it,  Jimmy  dear,"  she  answered 
sadly.  "  It's  too  late  now.  There's  no  road  back 
in  these  things.  It's  my  own  fault,  and  I  must 
pay  for  it." 

"  There  must  be  a  way  out,"  he  answered  fiercely. 
"  I  will  find  it  when  I  can  get  this  wretched 
visit  over.  You  can't  go  on  like  this." 

She  tried  to  soothe  him  down,  almost  as  a  mother 
soothes  a  child.  "  All  right,  dear,  you  shall  find 
it  when  you  come  back.  We'll  see  what  can  be 
done." 

Lalage  went  down  to  the  station  to  see  him  off. 
They  arrived  in  plenty  of  time,  and  when  h.e  had 
taken  his  ticket  they  went  into  the  refreshment 
booth  for  some  sandwiches.  They  sat  down,  and 
for  a  minute  or  two,  neither  said  anything.  Then, 
suddenly,  Jimmy  turned  to  her. 

"How  are  you  off  for  money,  Lalage?"  he 
asked. 

The  girl  coloured  slightly.  "  Quite  all  right, 
thanks,"  she  answered  after  a  moment's  hesita- 
tion. "  Really  I  am,  Jimmy,  and,  anyway,  I 
wouldn't  let  you  run  yourself  short." 

But  he  was  not  satisfied.  "Are  you  sure?  Take 
some  in  case  of  accidents." 


PEOPLE  OF    POSITION  115 

She  shook  her  head.  "  No,  there's  no  need.  I 
shall  be  able  to  pull  along." 

He  gave  in  reluctantly.  "  Well,  you've  got  my 
address.  Let  me  know  if  you  do  get  short,  be- 
cause I  should  hate  to  think "  He  broke  off 

abruptly,  then  went  on.  "  Promise  you'll  let  me 
know." 

Lalage  nodded.    "  Yes,  I  promise.' 


l» 


CHAPTER  XII 

F  DA  FENTON,  Jimmy's  younger  sister,  was  a 
tall,  fair  woman  with  a  beautiful  profile  and 
hazel-blue  eyes.  Women  who  did  not  like  her 
called  her  a  stick,  and  even  her  friends  admitted 
that  she  was  severe.  Stiffness  was  the  dominant 
note  in  her  character.  Most  men,  including  even 
her  husband,  wondered  that  she  had  ever  married. 
In  pre-Reformation  times  she  would  certainly  have 
been  a  nun,  and  probably  a  saint,  being  passionless, 
and  therefore  able  to  avoid  all  carnal  sins  without 
effort.  However,  she  belonged  to  an  age  which 
regarded  marriage  as  the  one  vocation  for  women, 
at  least  for  those  of  position,  and  she  had  accepted 
Joseph  Fenton,  if  not  with  enthusiasm,  at  least 
with  satisfaction.  He  appeared  to  fulfil  all  the 
necessary  conditions,  and  she  had  never  found 
reason  to  regret  her  choice.  If  Fenton  himself 
sometimes  appeared  hurt  at  the  fact  that  she  did 
not  display  more  outward  affection  towards  him 
or  the  children,  she  seldom  worried  over  the  mat- 
ter, being  fully  conscious  of  her  own  rectitude  of 
conduct  and  feeling. 

Jimmy  felt  chilled  the  moment  he  entered  the 
116 


PEOPLE  OF   POSITION  117 

Fenton  house.  Ida's  own  personality  seemed  to 
be  reflected  in  everything,  in  the  furniture,  in  the 
pictures,  and  above  all  in  the  unnaturally  tidy  chil- 
dren to  whom  he  was  presently  introduced.  He 
could  still  feel  the  one  cold  kiss  which  Ida  had 
given  him,  and,  when  he  was  shown  up  to  his  room, 
he  unconsciously  gave  the  spot  an  extra  dab  with 
the  sponge. 

The  weather  was  bitter,  yet  there  was  no  fire 
in  the  big  spare  room,  Ida  holding  that  fires  in 
bedrooms  were  unhealthy  and  extravagant,  conse- 
quently, being  still  thin  blooded  as  a  result  of  ten 
years  in  tropical  climates,  he  was  shivering  when 
he  got  downstairs  again. 

"  Can  I  have  a  little  whisky,  Joe?"  he  said  to 
his  brother-in-law,  whom  he  found  in  the  smoking- 
room.  "  I've  got  a  bit  of  a  chill  on  me,  and  it 
takes  very  little  to  bring  out  my  malaria." 

Ida,  who  had  just  entered,  frowned  slightly. 
"  Ammoniated  quinine  would  do  you  more  good, 
Jimmy.  Joseph  himself  never  drinks  between 
meals.  It's  such  a  bad  example  if  the  children 
happen  to  come  in." 

Jimmy  stifled  a  retort  to  the  effect  that  he  ob- 
vious course  was  to  keep  the  children  out;  but 
he  refused  the  proffered  quinine  and  helped  him- 
self to  some  of  the  whisky  which  his  brother-in-law 
had  already  produced. 


n8  PEOPLE   OF    POSITION 

Ida  sighed  and  went  out,  whereupon  Fenton  lost 
no  time  in  making  use  of  the  second  glass  which 
was  on  the  tray. 

"  Ida  likes  giving  people  ammoniated  quinine," 
he  remarked. 

Jimmy  nodded  sympathetically,  knowing  his  sis- 
ter of  old.  She  had  managed  their  father's  house- 
hold during  the  period  between  their  mother's 
death  and  her  own  marriage,  and  he  still  had 
lively  recollections  of  her  regime. 

Dinner  was  a  dreary  meal.  Fenton,  who  was  es- 
sentially a  cheerful  person,  made  several  spasmodic 
attempts  at  conversation,  but  Ida,  cold  and  beau- 
tiful, seemed  to  check  him  by  her  own  silence; 
whilst  Jimmy  was  thinking  of  Lalage,  contrasting 
the  luxury  of  his  present  surroundings,  the  massive 
plate,  the  costly  dinner  service,  the  deferential, 
silently-moving  butler,  with  Lalage's  little  room, 
and  its  hire-purchase  furniture,  earthenware  plates, 
and  the  meal  bought  at  the  ham  and  beef  shop. 
Now,  he  was  amongst  his  own  people,  a  Grierson 
come  back  to  the  Griersons;  and  yet  he  hated  it 
all,  because  he  had  reached  the  point  of  wanting 
to  share  everything  with  Lalage,  whom  he  could 
never  hope  to  introduce  into  houses  like  the  Fen- 
tons1. 

The  long  meal  came  to  an  end  at  last,  and  they 
went  into  the  smoking-room,  where  Ida  joined 


PEOPLE  OF   POSITION  119 

them.  Mrs.  Fenton  had  asked  no  questions  at 
dinner,  when  the  servants  were  present,  but  Jimmy 
quickly  found  that  there  were  many  things  she 
wanted  to  know,  not  about  the  past,  but  about 
his  doings  since  he  had  come  home,  and  about  his 
plans  for  the  future.  In  a  flash,  he  understood 
that  May  must  have  arranged  this  sudden  invita- 
tion to  Northampton,  and  he  was  on  his  guard  at 
once.  Inwardly,  he  was  furious  and  a  little  uneasy, 
foreseeing  the  possibility  of  future  trouble;  but  he 
kept  both  his  temper  and  his  composure,  and  in 
the  end  he  lulled  Ida's  suspicions.  When  she  had 
gone,  Fenton  himself  breathed  a  sigh,  which 
sounded  curiously  like  one  of  relief,  and,  pulling 
out  a  couple  of  big  volumes  in  the  bottom  shelf 
of  the  bookcase,  produced  a  bottle  of  whisky  of 
a  brand  greatly  superior  to  that  which  stood  on  the 
tray. 

"  She  doesn't  like  to  see  it  go  too  fast."  He 
motioned  towards  the  other  bottle. 

Jimmy  nodded  sympathetically,  understanding; 
then  helped  himself. 

"  They're  afraid  of  you  going  the  pace." 
Joseph  Fenton  jerked  the  words  out,  looking  away 
almost  guiltily. 

Once  more  Jimmy  nodded.  He  liked  this 
brother-in-law,  always  had  liked  him,  knowing  him 
to  be  a  man,  and,  for  a  moment,  he  felt  inclined  to 


120  PEOPLE   OF    POSITION 

tell  him  of  Lalage;  but,  before  he  could  make  up 
his  mind,  Joseph  went  on : 

'  They  don't  understand,  Jimmy — Ida  and  May 
and  my  own  sisters  too.  Yet,  hang  it  all,  in  a  way 
I  suppose  they're  right,  because  of  the  kids,  you 
know."  He  tossed  his  cigar  into  the  grate  and 
lighted  another,  rather  carefully.  "  You  fellows 
who  have  knocked  about,  you  get  ideas  and 
ways .  But,  they  won't  do  here,  Jimmy,  be- 
lieve me."  He  paused  again,  to  help  himself  to 
another  whisky,  then  went  on,  hurriedly,  "  This 
work  of  yours,  it's  a  bit  uphill.  Are  you  all  right 
for  cash?  If  not  come  to  me." 

Jimmy  flushed.  He  wanted  some  money  badly, 
how  badly  only  a  man  in  his  position,  the  lover 
of  Lalage,  could  know;  but  still  he  could  not  take 
it  from  Fenton,  for  that  purpose.  Joseph  would 
never  understand  his  motives.  So  he  stood  up, 
suddenly. 

"  Thanks,  very  much,  Joe ;  but  I  can  rub  along, 
at  least  I  think  so.  If  I  am  dead  stuck,  I  will  come 
to  you;  but  I  believe  I  can  pull  through."  Then 
he  said  good  night,  and  went  upstairs,  to  think 
of  Lalage,  and  to  curse  his  own  idiocy  in  not  tak- 
ing the  proffered  loan.  Twenty  pounds  would 
have  been  nothing  to  his  brother-in-law,  yet  to 
Lalage  and  himself  it  would  have  meant  a  new 
start.  Before  he  lay  down  he  had  made  up  his 


PEOPLE  OF   POSITION  121 

mind  to  ask  Joseph  for  it,  after  all,  and  he  went 
to  sleep  with  that  resolution  in  his  mind;  but  when 
he  awoke  in  the  morning  things  somehow  seemed 
different,  and  before  breakfast  was  over  he  had 
changed  his  mind.  This  was  his  world,  and  these 
were  his  own  people,  living  ordered  lives,  with 
soles  and  grilled  kidneys  for  breakfast,  and  family 
plate  on  the  table,  knowing  nothing  of  ham  and 
beef  shops,  or  of  milkmen  who  demanded  cash  in 
exchange  for  their  milk.  He  belonged  to  them, 
he  was  one  of  them,  sharing  their  principles  and 
their  prejudices,  worshipping  their  gods,  as  his 
ancestors  and  theirs  had  done.  What  real  kinship 
had  he  with  Lalage,  who  made  her  breakfast  tea 
out  of  a  quarter-pound  packet  bought  the  evening 
before  at  the  little  general  shop  round  the  corner, 
and  took  an  obvious  delight  in  the  sixpenny  had- 
dock they  had  purchased  off  the  barrow  with  the 
glaring  oil  lamps  over  it? 

And  yet,  when  the  postman  brought  him  no  let- 
ter from  that  same  Lalage,  he  grew  silent  and  rest- 
less, as  his  sister's  eyes  were  quick  to  note.  When 
Joseph  had  departed  to  his  office,  he  himself  went 
to  the  smoking-room  and  wrote  three  whole  sheets 
to  the  girl  who  lived  in  the  flat,  for  the  first  time 
throwing  all  prudence  to  the  winds,  and  saying  the 
things  he  felt.  His  pen  travelled  quickly,  and, 
whilst  he  was  writing,  he  forgot  all  about  his.  sur- 


122  PEOPLE   OF    POSITION 

roundings,  his  mind  being  full  of  Lalage.  When, 
at  last,  he  had  finished  and  signed  his  name,  in 
full,  as  a  sign  of  his  trust  in  her,  disdaining  any 
subterfuge,  he  looked  round  the  luxuriously  fur- 
nished room,  and  for  an  instant  he  was  filled 
with  a  sense  of  his  own  folly;  then,  hurriedly,  as 
though  ashamed  of  what  he  was  doing,  he  thrust 
the  letter  into  an  envelope  and  sealed  it  down, 
afterwards  posting  it  with  his  own  hands. 

The  hours  dragged  by  slowly.  The  Marlow 
house  had  seemed  dull;  but  the  Fentons'  was  al- 
most unbearable.  Ida  meant  to  be  kind ;  but,  per- 
haps, because  she  tried  to  show  her  intention,  she 
only  succeeded  in  making  Jimmy  feel  his  position 
as  a  poor  relation.  She  took  him  for  a  drive  in 
the  afternoon  to  call  on  one  or  two  elderly  ladies 
in  reduced  circumstances,  whom  she  patronised 
unconsciously,  greatly  to  the  discomfort  of  her 
brother,  who  had  a  kind  of  fellow  feeling  for  her 
victims.  Yet,  on  the  other  hand,  he  was  conscious 
of  a  grim  admiration  for  Ida;  she  was  so  sure  of 
her  own  rectitude,  so  convinced  that  her  husband's 
wealth — which  meant  her  own  position — entitled 
her  to  lecture  and  to  interfere.  It  was  all  inter- 
esting, even  amusing,  or  it  would  have  been  so,  had 
Lalage  never  come  into  his  life,  in  which  case 
he  could  have  regarded  Mrs.  Fenton  from  a  more 
or  less  impersonal  point  of  view.  Now,  however, 


PEOPLE   OF    POSITION  123 

she  was  a  possible  danger,  to  be  guarded  against, 
and — though  he  did  not  like  to  put  it  that  way — 
to  be  lied  to,  if  occasion  demanded. 

That  night,  Jimmy  hardly  closed  his  eyes,  being 
occupied  with  the  problem  of  inventing  an  excuse 
for  getting  back  to  town.  The  evening  post  had 
brought  him  no  letters;  and,  though  it  was  improb- 
able that  Lalage  would  have  any  real  news  for 
him,  he  was  terribly  worried  at  her  silence.  Lying 
then  through  the  Jong  hours,  praying  for  the  sleep 
which  would  not  come  to  ease  him  from  the  hide- 
ous pain  of  jealousy,  he  suffered  as  few  men  can 
suffer  in  their  lives.  He  had  no  right  to  control 
Lalage,  no  more  claim  on  her  than  anyone  else  had, 
he  was  mad  to  trouble  about  her,  knowing  what 
he  did  of  her,  and  having  ten  years'  experience  of 
women  behind  him.  Yet  he  lay  there,  wide-eyed, 
wondering,  and  tormenting  himself.  Twice  he 
got  up  and  endeavoured  to  smoke  a  cigarette,  but 
all  to  no  purpose.  The  tobacco  tasted  rank,  and, 
after  a  few  whiffs,  he  let  the  thing  go  out.  When, 
towards  morning,  he  did  fall  into  a  heavy  sleep,  it 
was  only  to  dream  of  Lalage,  with  the  mud  and 
rain  squelching  through  her  shoes,  looking  for 
someone  to  give  her  shelter. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

T  F  Ida  felt  any  relief  when,  at  the  end  of  four 
•*•  miserably  long  days,  Jimmy  returned  to  town, 
she  did  not  say  so,  even  to  her  husband.  It  had 
been  a  trial  in  many  ways,  but,  at  the  same  time, 
she  was  conscious  of  having  done  her  duty.  She 
had  impressed  her  brother  with  a  sense  of  what 
he  owed  to  the  family  in  the  matter  of  conduct, 
and  his  very  depression  seemed  to  show  that  he 
had  taken  the  matter  to  heart. 

"  Jimmy's  nerves  are  all  wrong.  He's  like  a 
man  on  wires.  He  wants  a  comfortable  home  and 
a  wife  to  look  after  him,"  Fenton  ventured  to 
remark  whilst  his  brother-in-law  was  upstairs, 
packing;  but  Ida  brushed  the  theory  aside  scorn- 
fully. 

"  I  am  surprised  at  you,  Joseph.  It  is  not  at  all 
the  way  to  speak  of  marriage.  The  Griersons  have 
always  waited  until  they  were  in  a  position  to 
marry,  and  have  never  held  those  disgusting  ideas 
of  nerves  and  so  on.  Jimmy  most  emphatically 
cannot  think  of  marrying  for  many  years  to  come. 
He  is  perfectly  well,  or  he  would  be  if  he  did  not 
smoke  and  drink  so  much.  He  has  the  remedy  in 
his  own  hands." 

124 


PEOPLE  OF   POSITION  125 

Fenton  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  turned  away, 
wondering  inwardly  whether  the  Grierson  strain 
would  predominate  in  his  own  children.  He  al- 
most wished  Jimmy  had  not  come  down.  It  was 
annoying  to  be  disturbed  and  made  to  think  after 
having  got  out  of  the  habit  of  so  doing. 

The  men  and  women  of  the  type  Ida  usually 
invited  to  the  house  never  worried  him  in  that 
way,  belonging  as  they  did  to  the  class  which  can 
afford  to  take  its  theories  as  facts. 

Jimmy  had  heard  once  from  Lalage,  a  brief 
little  note,  just  acknowledging  his  letters,  and 
telling  him  nothing.  Mrs.  Fenton  had  watched 
carefully  whilst  he  was  reading  it — she  had  de- 
tected a  woman's  handwriting — but  he  had  man- 
aged to  keep  his  composure,  and  then,  the  better 
to  deceive  her,  he  had  rolled  the  paper  into  a 
ball  and  tossed  it  on  to  the  fire,  though  it  cut  him 
to  the  heart  to  part  with  anything  which  had  once 
been  Lalage's. 

He  had  hoped  the  girl  would  have  been  waiting 
for  him  at  the  station ;  but  he  failed  to  see  her  tall 
figure  on  the  platform,  so,  jumping  into  a  cab,  he 
told  the  driver  to  take  him  to  the  mansions.  How- 
ever, as  they  went  up  the  last  street,  he  caught 
sight  of  Lalage  coming  out  of  a  hairdresser's 
shop.  A  moment  later  he  was  beside  her. 

Jimmy's  first  impression  was  one  of  delight  at 


126  PEOPLE   OF    POSITION 

the  look  of  genuine  pleasure  which  had  come  into 
her  eyes ;  then  he  noted  with  concern  how  worn  and 
pale  she  looked. 

"I  didn't  expect  you  quite  so  soon,"  she  said. 
"  I  must  have  made  a  mistake  in  the  time,  and  I 
wanted  to  get  my  hair  done  nicely  before  you  got 
back." 

"What  has  been  the  matter  with  you?  Why 
didn't  you  write,  dear?  "  he  asked. 

She  parried  the  questions  until  they  got  inside 
the  flat,  when  he  repeated  them,  holding  her  hands, 
and  looking  into  her  eyes.  She  tried  to  avoid  his 
scrutiny. 

"  I've  been  all  right,"  she  answered,  "  only  there 
was  nothing  to  write  about." 

But  he  would  not  be  put  off  like  that,  and  at  last, 
with  a  sob,  she  told  him.  "  It's  over  now,  and  I 
didn't  mean  you  to  know.  I — I've  had  the  brokers 
in."  She  was  speaking  hurriedly,  in  a  low  voice. 
;'  You  see,  someone  has  been  paying  my  rent,  and 
I  expected  it  the  day  you  went  away — it  should 
have  come  that  morning — and  it  was  due  next 
day.  I  never  heard,  and  I  only  had  a  few  shil- 
lings, so  they  put  the  brokers  in  at  once.  These 
landlords  always  do." 

Jimmy  cursed  silently.  "  Why  didn't  you  wire 
to  me?  You  know  I  would  have  sent  it  at  once." 

She  shook  her  head.  "  No,  no.  I  hate  taking 
money  from  you,  above  everyone." 


PEOPLE  OF    POSITION  127 

"  What  did  you  do  in  the  end?  " 

She  looked  up  and  faced  him,  with  a  kind  of 
desperate  courage.  "  I  got  it  by  going  away  for 
two  days.  It's  no  good  disguising  things,  trying 
to  make  out  that  I  don't." 

It  was  a  question  which  was  the  paler,  the  man 
or  the  woman.  It  had  come  home  to  him,  as  it 
had  never  done  before.  He  dropped  her  hands 
and  went  over  to  the  window,  where  he  stood  very 
still,  staring  out  with  absolutely  unseeing  eyes; 
whilst  she  watched  him  with  a  deadly  pain  at  her 
heart,  thinking  she  had  killed  the  love  which  she 
knew  had  grown  up  in  him. 

'*  Perhaps  it's  best,  after  all,  perhaps  it's  best." 
She  tried  desperately  hard  to  say  the  words  to 
herself,  then,  almost  unconsciously,  she  took  a 
step  towards  him.  Possibly  her  action  altered  the 
whole  course  of  two  lives,  for,  like  a  flash,  he 
turned  round,  seized  her  in  his  arms,  and  covered 
her  face  with  kisses. 

"  I  don't  care,  now  I've  come  back,  because  it'll 
never  happen  again,  it  can't  happen  again,  and 
what  went  before  has  nothing  to  do  with  me. 
We'll  start  afresh,  dearest,  we'll  start  afresh."  He 
repeated  the  words  several  times,  savagely,  as 
though  wishing  to  assure  himself  that  it  would 
be  so. 

Lalage  was  crying  on  his  shoulder,  sobbing 
quietly  without  noise  or  movement,  as  overwrought 


128  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

women  do;  but  it  was  soon  over,  and  she  pulled 
herself  together  bravely. 

"  I  think  you're  very  tired  and  we  had  better 
have  some  tea  now,"  she  said,  smiling  at  him  with 
wet  eyes.  He  kissed  away  her  tears,  then  released 
her,  and  sat  down  whilst  she  hurried  into  the 
kitchen  to  prepare  the  tray. 

It  was  very  much  later,  in  fact  not  until  after 
they  had  finished  the  supper,  which  she  insisted 
should  come  from  the  next  street — "  Because  it 
was  so  nice  last  time,"  she  explained — that  he 
went  back  to  the  subject  of  their  future.  He  was 
so  desperately  in  earnest  that  he  succeeded  in 
blinding  himself  to  the  financial  difficulties  ahead; 
and,  though  perhaps  he  did  not  convince  either 
Lalage  or  himself,  they  were  both  in  the  mood  to 
risk  things. 

"  I'll  give  up  my  rooms  at  Mrs.  Benn's,  thank- 
fully, and  we  can  take  some  others,  somewhere 
near  Fleet  Street,  until  we  can  get  on  our  feet,'* 
he  went  on. 

But  Lalage  demurred.  "  I  can't  give  up  this  flat, 
at  least  not  without  losing  all  I've  paid  on  the 
furniture,  until  the  end  of  my  agreement,  in  six 
months'  time.  Why  shouldn't  we  stay  on  here  ?  " 

Jimmy  frowned.  He  loathed  the  place  and  all 
its  associations,  but  he  was  not  in  a  position  to 
give  her  another  home  of  her  own,  as  yet,  and 


PEOPLE   OF   POSITION  129 

he  could  not  answer  her  argument,  especially  when 
she  added: 

"  I  can  tell  them  at  the  agent's  office  that  we 
are  married,  and  we  can  give  them  some  name  or 
other." 

She  said  it  simply,  without  the  least  intention  of 
hurting  him;  but  the  words  cut  him  like  a  whip, 
for  though,  for  one  mad  moment,  he  had  thought 
of  marriage,  real  marriage,  he  had  put  the  idea 
on  one  side  as  utterly  impossible.  He  was  a 
Grierson,  owing  a  duty  to  the  family,  and  he  could 
not  do  the  thing.  Only  he  had  the  grace  not  even 
to  hint  of  it  to  her,  and  she  gave  no  sign  that  she 
had  the  least  expectation  of  any  promise  from  him. 
She  had  recovered  her  spirits,  and,  apparently,  was 
quite  content  with  the  arrangement  he  proposed. 
He  was  fully  conscious  that  Society  would  condemn 
him  unsparingly,  if  it  found  out,  and  he  could  not 
justify  his  own  conduct,  even  to  himself;  but 
Lalage  never  seemed  to  consider  the  moral  aspect 
of  the  question,  that  curious  element  of  irresponsi- 
bility, almost  childishness,  which  Ke  had  marked 
at  the  very  outset,  was  now  more  noticeable  than 
ever. 

Suddenly,  a  new  fear  gripped  him.  "  It  will 
never  do  to  give  my  people  this  address,"  he  said. 
"  They  would  make  inquiries  at  once,  and 
then "  He  gave  a  grim  little  smile. 


130  PEOPLE   OF    POSITION 

Lalage's  face  grew  hard.  "  Why  should  they 
hunt  you  like  that?  If  they  really  cared,  they 
would  have  looked  after  you,  instead  of  sending 
you  to  those  lodgings.  They  want  you  to  be  like 
a  little  boy,  to  do  just  what  they  say,  and  never  to 
have  a  mind  of  your  own — oh,  yes,  but  they  do. 
They  ought  to  have  seen  that  after  all  you've 
been  through,  you  need  care  and  love." 

He  looked  up  with  a  queer  light  in  his  eyes. 
"  Do  you  love  me,  Lalage  ?  You've  never  said 
so." 

"  I  like  you  very,  very  much,"  she  answered. 

But  he  was  not  satisfied.  "  Do  you  love  me?  " 
he  repeated. 

"  I  like  you  better,  much  better,  than  anyone 
else  I  ever  met,"  and  with  that  he  had  to  be  con- 
tent. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

'T  KNOW  someone  who  will  let  you  a  room, 
just  as  an  address,  in  case  those  horrid  sis- 
ters of  yours  make  inquiries."  Lalage  turned 
round  suddenly  from  the  looking-glass,  her  hands 
still  busy  with  her  hair. 

"  Who  is  she?  Where  does  she  live?  "  Jimmy 
asked  lazily,  being  at  the  moment  more  interested 
in  that  same  hair  than  in  anything  else. 

"  She  lives  just  the  other  side  of  Baker  Street, 
and  really  she's  a  kind  of  agent,  you  know." 
Lalage  made  a  gesture  of  supreme  disgust.  "  But 
she's  not  so  bad  as  most  of  them,  and,  as  her  hus- 
band is  a  clerk  in  the  Council  office,  anyone  would 
tell  your  people  that  the  house  is  quite  respectable. 
Why,  it  belongs  to  the  mayor  himself." 

Jimmy  frowned.  He  loathed  the  idea  of  put- 
ting himself  in  the  hands  of  people  of  that  sort, 
people  who  would  understand  exactly  how  matters 
stood,  and  judge,  not  only  himself,  but  Lalage 
as  well,  according  to  their  own  standards. 

"  I  would  sooner  we  had  nothing  whatever  to  do 
with  any  of  them,"  he  said. 

He  was  touching  mud  for  the  first  time  in  his 
life,  real  mud,  and  he  did  not  like  the  feeling  of  it. 


1 32  PEOPLE   OF    POSITION 

Moreover,  he  had  suddenly  grown  very  particular 
about  Lalage.  They  might  not  be  married,  in  fact 
he  had  decided  that  there  could  be  no  question  of 
marriage  between  them ;  but,  none  the  less,  as  long 
as  he  was  going  under  another  name,  he  wanted 
people  to  believe  they  had  legalised  their  union, 
and  to  respect  Lalage  accordingly.  Had  he  not 
belonged  to  a  family  of  position,  he  might  have 
seen  himself  as  a  coward  or  a  cad;  but  the  Grier- 
sons  were  essentially  of  the  Victorian  age,  and  so 
he  was  able  to  quiet  his  conscience  with  platitudes ; 
whilst  under  the  seeming  calmness  with  which 
Lalage  had  accepted  his  proposal,  she  was  too  glad 
of  any  change  from  the  nightmare  of  the  past  to 
be  very  critical.  She  hoped — that  was  all,  reso- 
lutely refusing  to  allow  herself  any  fears  or  mis- 
givings. And,  after  all,  Jimmy  was  very  young 
so  far  as  these  things  were  concerned,  and  Lalage 
was  even  younger;  so,  probably,  they  would  not 
have  listened  to,  much  less  have  believed,  anyone 
who  had  warned  them  that  they  were  attempting 
the  impossible.  They  were  happy  at  the  moment, 
having  put  the  past  behind  them,  and  they  were 
ready  to  assume  that  their  happiness  would  last, 
ignoring  its  dangerous  insecure  foundations. 

In  the  end,  Lalage  had  her  way,  so  far  as  the 
room  was  concerned.  Mrs.  Fagin,  the  landlady, 
scenting  money  easily  earned,  was  absolutely 


PEOPLE   OF   POSITION  133 

servile.  Jimmy  stammered  a  little  over  his  ex- 
planations, but  Lalage  put  things  more  plainly. 
"  He  will  seldom  be  here ;  in  fact  I  do  not  think 
he  will  ever  actually  need  the  room,"  she  said. 
"  But  it  will  be  an  address  for  his  letters,  and 
you  will  know  what  to  say  if  there  are  any  inquiries. 
What  would  be  your  terms  ?  " 

Mrs.  Fagin  looked  at  Jimmy,  as  if  to  get  his 
measure.  "  I'm  sure  I  don't  know,  sir,"  she  be- 
gan. "  We  haven't  had  that  same  thing  before, 
"but " 

"  He  will  pay  three  shillings  a  week,"  Lalage 
interrupted,  "  and  begin  next  week.  That  should 
suit  you,  Mrs.  Fagin.  Very  well,"  and  she 
sailed  out. 

Jimmy  looked  at  her  admiringly.  "  You  do 
know  how  to  deal  with  them,  Lalage,"  he  re- 
marked. 

She  sighed  a  little  wearily.  "  I've  had  to  learn 
that,  and  a  good  many  other  things,  since  I  came 
to  town." 

Down  at  the  apartment  house  in  the  dreary 
suburban  street,  Mrs.  Benn  accepted  a  week's 
notice  from  Jimmy  with  a  sniff  of  anger. 

"  Very  well,  sir.  You  know  your  own  business 
best,  though  Mrs.  Marlow  did  say  as  how  you 
would  be  permanent.  Without  that,  I  shouldn't 
have  gone  out  of  my  way  to  give  you  our  own 


i34  PEOPLE   OF    POSITION 

best  room,  and  to  wear  my  health,  which  is  not 
too  good,  out  in  making  you  comfortable.  But 
then,  Mrs.  Marlow  was  evidently  mistook  all 
round,  for  she  said  you  would  keep  respectable 
hours  and  act  as  such." 

Whereupon  Jimmy  lost  his  temper,  paid  her 
a  week  in  lieu  of  notice,  and  went  straight  back 
to  Lalage,  who  received  him  with  delight.  "  So 
you  haven't  changed  your  mind  at  the  last  moment, 
as  you  would  have  done  if  you  had  been  wise, 
and  good  and,"  she  laughed  mischievously, 
"  Grierson-like." 

"  All  I  care  about  is  being  good  to  you,  sweet- 
heart," he  answered.  "  But  why  do  you  say 
'Grierson-like'?" 

She  looked  at  him  critically,  her  head  a  little 
on  one  side.  "  Because  you're  two  men — James 
Grierson,  who  is  stodgy  and  respectable  and  ought 
to  marry  what  the  other  Griersons  call  a  good 
girl,  that  is  one  with  money;  and  Jimmy,  who  is 
awfully  sweet  and  unselfish,  just  the  opposite  to 
James.  Just  now,  you're  Jimmy,  the  nice  side 
of  you  is  uppermost;  but  some  day  it  may  be  the 
other  way  about  and  then  you'll  run  off  and  leave 
poor  Lalage." 

He  flushed,  and  tried  to  draw  her  to  him. 
"  Never,  never,"  he  declared.  "  I  shall  always 
stick  to  you.  Who  else  have  I  got?" 


PEOPLE   OF    POSITION  135 

She  shook  her  head.  "  You've  got  your  own 
people,  always,  ready  to  have  you,  when  you'll 
be  one  of  them;  whilst  I'm  all  alone,  and  only 
Lalage,  the  girl  you  met  by  chance  in  Oxford 
Street." 

Her  words  reawakened  his  curiosity  as  to  her 
past.  Twice  before  he  had  tried  to  learn  her 
story,  but  now,  as  on  those  occasions,  she  baffled 
his  questions. 

"  I  am  Lalage  Penrose,  that's  all.  I  was  a  fool, 
and  I've  paid  for  my  folly,  and  there's  nothing 
else  worth  telling." 

"  Still,  I  should  like  to  hear,"  he  persisted. 

"  Well,  perhaps  you  shall  some  day,  if  you  don't 
turn  into  James  Grierson  before  then.  But — but, 
don't  ask  me,  Jimmy."  Her  bantering  manner 
changed  suddenly,  and  with  a  queer  little  sob  she 
jumped  up  and  hurried  into  the  other  room. 

Jimmy  did  not  try  to  follow  her.  Instead,  he 
lighted  a  cigarette,  and  endeavoured  to  settle  down 
to  work  on  an  article  which  had  been  suggested 
by  a  paragraph  in  that  morning's  Record.  A 
quarter  of  an  hour  later  Lalage  came  back  with 
a  little  bundle  of  his  socks  in  her  hand. 

"These  want  darning,"  she  remarked;  then,  in 
the  most  natural  manner,  she  sat  down  in  the  big 
wicker  chair  beside  him,  and  started  to  ply  her 
needle. 


136  PEOPLE   OT1   POSITION 

From  time  to  time  Jimmy  glanced  up  from  his 
writing.  He  was  breaking  the  moral  code  in 
which  he  had  been  brought  up,  the  code  which 
he  knew,  as  every  sane  man  does  know,  is  essen- 
tially right  in  principle;  he  was  risking  a  rupture 
with  his  own  people  who,  certainly,  would  never 
tolerate  Lalage;  he  was  face  to  face  with  an  ugly 
financial  situation,  almost  penniless  himself  and 
with  another  dependent  on  him;  and  yet  he  felt 
more  at  peace  than  he  had  done  for  many  months 
past.  Lalage,  intent  on  her  needlework,  frown- 
ing prettily  over  the  large  holes  in  his  socks,  looked 
so  sweet  and  girlish,  so  entirely  unsoiled,  out- 
wardly at  least,  by  what  she  had  been  through, 
that  it  seemed  as  if,  after  all,  there  could  be  noth- 
ing wrong.  Marriage  was  only  a  formality,  he 
told  himself,  and  from  that  time  on  he  tried  to 
school  himself  to  think  so,  almost  succeeding  after 
a  while. 

When  his  article  was  finished,  Jimmy  glanced 
through  it  rapidly,  made  one  or  two  corrections, 
scrawled  his  signature  at  the  foot,  then  turned 
to  Lalage.  "What  is  the  time,  dear?  Have  any 
of  your  clock-men  come  down  the  street  lately?" 

She  looked  up  with  a  smile.  "  Yes,  the  water- 
cress man,  which  means  five  o'clock.  Have  you 
finished  now?  " 

Jimmy  nodded.  "  I  thought  of  taking  it  down 
to  the  office  now.  It's  topical,  so  there's  just  a 


PEOPLE  OF   POSITION  137 

chance   they'll   use   it  to-night.    Will   you   come 
too?" 

"  Of  course,"  she  answered.  "  We  can  get  a 
motor  'bus  at  the  end  of  the  street,  and  it'll  be 
a  nice  little  run  out.  Besides,  it'll  be  lucky  if  I 
go  with  you.  They'll  be  sure  to  take  it.  I've 
a  feeling  I  shall  bring  you  luck.  Don't  you  think 
so  yourself?  " 

He  kissed  her  lightly  on  the  hair.  "  I'm  sure 
you  will,  sweetheart.  And  we  want  lots  of  luck 
just  now." 

"  What  a  dirty  place  and  what  a  grumpy  old 
man !  "  Lalage  remarked  as  they  came  out  of  the 
Record  office,  after  handing  the  envelope  to  the 
surly  porter,  who  had  taken  it  with  an  inarticu- 
late growl  and  tossed  it  to  a  waiting  boy.  "  Still, 
if  they  use  it  and  they're  good  to  you,  I  don't 
mind  how  dusty  their  passage  is,  or  how  bad  tem- 
pered the  porter  looks." 

Jimmy  pressed  her  arm.  "  Good  to  us,  you 
mean,  don't  you?" 

She  laughed.  "  Yes,  good  to  us,  I  should  say 
now."  In  the  morning  Jimmy  was  out  early  to 
buy  a  copy  of  the  paper;  and,  as  she  opened  the 
door  to  him,  his  radiant  face  told  her  the  news. 

11  They've  used  it,"  he  said,  unnecessarily. 

She  laughed  softly.  "  I  felt  sure  they  would. 
You  see  Lalage  is  lucky  to  you  already." 


CHAPTER  XV 

~*HAT  last  article  of  yours  I  used  was  a  very 
good  one,  and  I  shall  always  be  glad  to  see 
anything  you  like  to  submit;  but  the  amount  of 
space  we  can  give  to  foreign  stuff,  however  good, 
is  limited,  and  I  do  not  like  to  have  the  same  sig- 
nature more  than  three  or  four  times  a  month," 
Dodgson  wrote,  in  returning  Jimmy's  next  manu- 
script. 

Jimmy  passed  the  letter  to  Lalage.  "  Not  very 
encouraging,  is  it  dear?" 

The  girl  read  it  through.  "  Oh,  I  think  so. 
Three  or  four  months  means  six  or  eight  guineas 
from  one  paper  alone,  and  then,  you  see,  there  are 
so  many  others.  I'm  sure  you'll  do  well,  because 
you're  very,  very  clever,  and  because  you're  good 
to  Lalage." 

"  Will  that  bring  me  luck?  "  he  asked,  smiling. 

"  Of  course,"  she  answered.  "  Everyone  who 
is  good  to  me  gets  on  and  those  who  are  horrid 
come  to  grief.  I've  seen  it,  lots  of  times."  She 
spoke  seriously,  with  an  air  of  conviction. 

;'  Well,  I  hope  you're  right."  Jimmy  sighed. 
He  had  not  sold  any  manuscript  for  several  days, 
and  was  feeling  distinctly  worried  about  the  fu- 

138 


PEOPLE  OF    POSITION  139 

ture.  His  original  capital  had  dwindled  down 
to  a  few  shillings,  despite  Lalage's  careful  man- 
agement, and,  so  far,  he  had  not  been  paid  for 
any  of  his  work.  Already,  the  need  of  money 
was  crippling  him,  robbing  him  of  his  powers  of 
imagination,  and  by  that  hideous  perversity  of  ef- 
fect which  every  writer  knows  to  his  cost,  making 
him  do  less  instead  of  the  more  he  longed  to  pro- 
duce. 

Lalage,  ever  an  optimist,  did  her  best  to  cheer 
him  up  and  to  assist  him,  searching  the  papers 
for  news  items  which  might  form  the  basis  of 
an  article,  counting  the  number  of  words  in  his 
manuscripts  to  see  they  did  not  exceed  the  regu- 
lation column  length,  and  even  copying  out  his 
rough  notes  in  her  clear,  bold  handwriting. 

"  I  wish  you  could  get  a  typewriter  machine, 
Jimmy,"  she  remarked.  "  I'm  sure  your  stuff 
would  have  a  better  chance,  and  I  could  soon  learn 
to  use  the  thing.  Other  girls  do,  so  I'm  sure  I 
can." 

"  They  cost  a  lot  of  money,"  Jimmy  answered, 
rather  wearily. 

Lalage  tossed  her  head.  "  You  can  get  them 
on  the  hire-purchase  system.  I  believe  you  think 
I  should  get  tired  of  it,  you  old  silly.  Now  don't 
you?" 

The  man  stooped  down  and  kissed  her.    "  I 


i4o  PEOPLE   OF    POSITION 

don't  think  anything  of  the  kind.  I  know  you're 

a  brick,  only ."  He  broke  off  with  a  sigh, 

then,  "  I'm  going  down  to  the  club,  to  see  if  I 
can  find  Kelly.  I  must  do  something  before  we 
get  in  a  fix." 

She  looked  up  at  him  anxiously.  "  Will  you 
be  long,  dear?  And  do  be  careful,  won't  you? 
You  walk  through  the  traffic  as  if  it  wasn't  there, 
unless  you  have  me  to  look  after  you." 

When  he  had  gone  out,  she  sat  for  a  long  time, 
very  still,  staring  into  the  fire.  Already,  she  was 
getting  a  little  afraid.  Twice,  Jimmy  had  gone 
down  to  the  club  in  the  vain  hope  of  hearing  of 
something  to  do  or  picking  up  some  useful  hints, 
and  each  time  he  had  returned  a  little  flushed 
and  inclined  to  be  apologetic.  Lalage  did  not 
blame  him,  even  in  her  own  mind.  It  was  in- 
evitable, she  told  herself,  after  all  he  had  been 
through,  to  the  strain  of  which  was  now  added 
the  anxiety  of  the  present.  She  did  not  blame 
him,  but  at  the  same  time,  as  she  glanced  round 
her  little  home,  she  gave  a  shudder  of  fear  at 
the  possibility  of  losing  it  all  and  of  losing  Jimmy 
as  well.  "  If  I  were  only  sure  of  him,  if  I  dare 
trust  him,  I  wouldn't  mind,  I'd  risk  it  all.  But 
to  lose  everything,  and  then  be  homeless  and  alone 

again "  She  suddenly  felt  very  cold  and 

stooped  down  to  poke  the  little  fire. 


PEOPLE   OF    POSITION  141 

A  moment  later,  the  electric  bell  rang,  three 
times  in  rapid  succession,  a  signal  she  knew  well. 
She  stood  up  quickly,  her  face  very  pale.  "  It's 
Ralph,"  she  muttered.  "  And  we  want  money  so 
badly.  I  wonder  if  he  would  just  lend  it."  She 
stood,  with  clenched  hands,  trying  to  decide.  The 
bell  rang  again,  seemingly  more  insistently;  then, 
deliberately,  she  sat  down,  and  put  her  fingers  in 
her  ears.  "  Oh,  Jimmy,  I  won't,  because  I  love 
you.  But  I  don't  believe  you  trust  me,  and  I  don't 
believe  you  understand." 

Down  at  the  club,  Jimmy  was  seeking  advice 
of  Douglas  Kelly. 

"Hasn't  the  Record  paid  you  yet?"  the  latter 
asked.  "Oh,  you  haven't  sent  in  an  account? 
You  should  have  done  so  on  the  Wednesday  after 
your  stuff  appeared,  then  you  would  have  got 
a  cheque  on  the  Friday  afternoon.  Still,  if  you 
go  down  to-day,  before  five,  the  cashier  will  give 
it  to  you.  He's  a  very  decent  fellow,  and,  if  you're 
ever  badly  stuck,  he'll  let  you  have  it  the  day  your 
article  appears.  I've  been  glad  enough  to  get 
it  that  way,  more  than  once." 

Jimmy  felt  that  sudden  relief  which  only  those 
who  have  been  desperately  short  of  money  can 
know.  He  had  led  Lalage  to  understand  that  he 
had  a  couple  of  shillings  in  his  pocket  for  his  own 
needs  beyond  the  half-crown  he  left  her,  whereas 


i42  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

he  had  not  even  got  his  omnibus  fare  back  from 
Fleet  Street. 

"  I  hate  to  think  of  you  going  out  without  the 
money  for  a  drink  and  so  on,"  she  had  said. 
"  What's  more,  I'm  not  going  to  let  you  do  it." 
So  he  had  lied  bravely  to  her,  knowing  that,  unless 
he  had  some  luck,  the  half-crown  would  be  needed 
for  food  for  the  morrow.  Now,  however,  he 
would  have  money  enough  for  a  good  many  to- 
morrows. 

Kelly  knew  nothing  of  Lalage,  but  he  under- 
stood what  the  sudden  brightening  of  Jimmy's 
face  meant. 

"Been  hard  up?"  he  asked,  with  a  smile. 
"  Why  didn't  you  come  to  me,  as  I  told  you  to 
do  ?  Of  course,  you'll  find  it  an  uphill  game,  and 
I  would  advise  you  to  leave  it  now,  at  the  start, 
if  I  were  not  sure  you  would  succeed  in  the  end. 
You'll  have  a  hard  fight,  because  you've  got  ability 
and  experience  of  the  world,  and  those  will  tell 
against  you  at  first." 

"Why?"  Jimmy  asked. 

Kelly  gave  a  cynical  little  laugh.  "  Because 
there's  not  much  demand  for  either  in  Fleet  Street. 
You've  only  got  to  study  the  Press  to  see  that — 
dailies,  weeklies,  magazines,  the  whole  lot.  They 
want  writers  who  are  just  on  the  level  of  the 
mob,  because  then  the  mob  can  understand  them. 


PEOPLE  OF    POSITION  143 

All  your  travel  won't  help  you  to  get  a  job;  but 
if  you  could  go  into  a  newspaper  office  and  say, 
*  I  know  more  about  Upper  Clapton,  or  Stockwell, 
or  some  such  beastly  place  than  any  man  living/ 
or  '  I'm  a  crime  expert,  and  I  can  give  the  names, 
and  dates  of  execution,  *of  every  man  hanged  in 
London  for  the  last  twenty  years,'  then  they'd 
welcome  you  as  a  long-lost  brother,  and  give  you 
about  ten  pounds  a  week." 

Jimmy  laughed,  not  quite  believing  him. 
"Then  how  did  you  yourself  get  on?" 

Kelly  finished  his  drink,  and  ordered  some  more 
before  answering  the  question,  then,  "  I  bluffed," 
he  said.  "  There  was  a  coal  strike  coming  on, 
and  I  swore  I  was  an  expert  on  coal  mining,  so 
the  Evening  Guardian  gave  me  a  job.  I  picked 
up  a  little  knowledge  locally,  just  a  few  technical 
terms  and  so  on;  and,  as  for  the  rest,  neither  the 
editor  nor  the  public  knew  that  half  my  stuff  was 
utter  rot.  It  read  well,  and  lent  itself  to  good 
headlines." 

"And  then,  after  that?  "  Jimmy  asked. 

"  After  that?  Oh,  well,  I  had  got  my  foot  in, 
and  it  was  easy.  I  advertised  myself,  and  made 
the  ruck  get  out  of  my  way,  as  I  told  you  before. 
I'm  not  loved,  but  then  I'm  not  in  Fleet  Street 
for  the  sake  of  earning  the  regard  of  its  popula- 
tion." 


144  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

Jimmy  looked  surprised.  "  They  all  seem 
pretty  eager  to  talk  to  you." 

"  Of  course  they  do."  Kelly  laughed  grimly. 
"  Of  course  they  do,  because  I'm  a  power  already 
and  I  may  be  an  editor  by-and-by;  but,  if  I  went 
down,  all  they  would  think  about  would  be  to 
scramble  for  my  place.  Don't  think  I'm  blaming 
them;  they're  a  decent  enough  crowd,  awfully  de- 
cent, but  the  fight  is  too  hard  to  have  time  for 
thinking  about  anyone  else.  Why  you,  yourself, 
are  already  the  common  foe,  in  a  sense.  You're 
taking  up  space  in  the  Record  which,  but  for  you, 
someone  else  would  fill.  You  won't  get  any  help 
or  advice,  and  most  people  would  say  I  was  a  fool 
for  introducing  a  possible  competitor  of  my  own. 
You'll  feel  the  same,  if  you  stick  in  Fleet  Street 
long  enough,  which  you  won't  do." 

"  I  thought  you  said  I  was  going  to  succeed," 
Jimmy  retorted. 

Kelly  yawned.  "  So  I  did,  my  bright  child. 
But  when  you've  learnt  the  ropes,  and  can  afford 
it,  you'll  go  in  for  fiction.  But  just  now,  all  your 
ideas  are  chaotic,  and  you  won't  do  a  decent  story 
until  you've  sorted  them  out  and  fallen  in  love." 

Jimmy  coloured.  "  How  do  you  know  I've 
never  done  that  yet?  " 

The  other  man  shook  his  head.  "You're  too 
sweetly  young  in  many  of  your  ways  and  ideas. 


PEPPLE  OF   POSITION  145 

Oh,  I  daresay  there's  some  prim  maiden  belong- 
ing to  your  sister's  circle,  with  an  aldermanic  papa 
in  the  City — but  you,  yourself,  would  never  really 
be  in  love  with  her.  I  know  you  too  well;  and 
if  you  did  marry  her,  you  would  never  write  a 
book,  until  you  had  run  away  from  her,  as  you 
would  certainly  do.  Well,"  he  got  up  abruptly, 
as  if  to  avoid  giving  any  reasons  for  his  ideas, 
"  I'm  going  over  to  the  Record  office  now,  and 
if  you  come,  I'll  introduce  you  to  the  cashier  and 
you  can  get  your  cheque." 

Jimmy  did  not  waste  any  time  after  he  left  the 
Record  office.  The  cashier  himself  changed  the 
cheque  for  him,  the  banks  being  shut.  Jimmy  hesi- 
tated a  moment  as  to  whether  he  should  take  a 
hansom,  then  remembered  the  lean  days  of  the 
past,  and  jumped  on  an  omnibus.  Lalage  could 
make  a  shilling  go  a  surprisingly  long  way. 

He  found  the  girl  sitting  in  the  dark,  in  front 
of  an  almost  dead  fire,  and  his  conscience  smote 
him  on  account  of  the  time  he  had  spent  in  the 
warm,  comfortable  club  smoking-room. 

"We're  in  luck,  sweetheart,"  he  said,  putting 
his  hands  on  her  shoulders,  and  kissing  her.  "  I've 
got  the  six  guineas  out  of  the  Record." 

She  reached  up  and  pulled  his  face  down  to 
hers  again,  in  one  of  her  rare  bursts  of  outward 
affection.  "  Oh,  I'm  so  glad.  I  was  reckoning 


i46  PEOPLE   OF    POSITION 

up,  and  I  found  you  must  have  gone  out  without 
any  money,  even  for  tobacco  or  a  drink,  and  I 
was  picturing  you  trudging  back  in  this  cold 
drizzle.  You  are  a  naughty  boy  to  do  those 
things." 

"  And  how  about  you,  if  I  spent  all  the  money? 
Wouldn't  you  think  to  yourself  that  I  was  a  self- 
ish beast?" 

Lalage  shook  her  head.  "  You  could  never  be 
selfish;  it's  not  your  nature.  You  might  be 
thoughtless,  that's  all.  Promise  me  you  won't  go 
out  like  that  again.  I  shall  worry  ever  so  much 
if  you  don't.  I  know,  only  too  well,  what  it  means 
to  trudge  about  in  the  London  mud  without  a 
penny  for  even  a  glass  of  hot  milk.  Oh,  the  cold." 
She  gave  a  little  shiver.  "  You  know  that  shop 
in  Regent  Street,  where  they  have  the  big  fires  in 
the  window,  showing  off  some  stoves.  I've  stood 
there  for  as  long  as  I  dare,  more  than  once,  try- 
ing to  think  I  was  feeling  the  heat  through  the 
glass." 

"  Don't,  please  don't,"  Jimmy  muttered  thickly. 
"  I  do  hate  to  think  of  it  all.  And  it  shan't  be 
so  again,  I  swear  it  shan't.  Let's  forget  it  all  to- 
night, and  go  out  and  have  some  dinner  some- 
where, for  a  change.  You're  all  on  a  shiver 
now.  I'll  go  out  and  get  some  brandy,  whilst 


PEOPLE  OF   POSITION  147 

you  put  your  things  on.  I  may  as  well  bring  in 
a  bottle." 

Lalage  put  her  hand  on  his  arm.  "  Not  a  bot-. 
tie,  dear,  only  a  quartern.  That'll  be  quite 
enough.  Do  what  Lalage  tells  you  this  time." 

"Don't  I  always  do  what  you  tell  me?"  he 
asked,  laughing. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  want  you  to  say  that,"  she  an- 
swered quickly.  "  You  ought  to  be  your  own  mas- 
ter; only  when  I  know  a  thing  is  right  I  do  like 
to  tell  you.  A  woman  should,  I  think." 

For  an  instant,  Jimmy  felt  a  wild  longing  to 
beg  her  to  change  the  word  "  woman  "  to  that 
of  "  wife,"  but  she  had  already  turned  towards 
the  door,  and  at  the  same  moment  the  noise  of 
the  grimy  street  seemed  to  come  in  through  the 
window  and  somehow  fill  the  room.  The  sound 
recalled  him  to  his  normal  self.  How  could  he, 
a  Grierson,  take  a  wife  from  those  surroundings? 


CHAPTER  XVI 

l\/r  RS.  MARLOW  had  learnt  of  her  brother's 
sudden  change  of  address  with  mingled 
annoyance  and  anxiety.  It  was  not  pleasant  to 
have  him  quit  the  lodgings  she  had  found  for  him 
after  so  short  a  trial,  and  she  could  not  help  feel- 
ing that  there  was  some  very  strong  attraction 
drawing  him  to  town.  Mrs.  Benn,  that  uncom- 
promising "Son  of  Temperance,"  had  come  over 
herself  to  explain  matters  to  Jimmy's  sister,  and 
had  taken  the  opportunity  to  enlarge  on  the  num- 
ber of  bottles  she  had  found  in  her  lodger's  room, 
omitting  to  state,  however,  that  these  had  included 
the  best  part  of  a  dozen  of  'Bass,  which,  possibly 
because  she  hated  liquor  so  much,  she  had  promptly 
sold  to  her  next-door  neighbour  at  a  halfpenny 
a  bottle  below  the  retail  price. 

"  I'm  afraid  as  how  the  house  was  too  quiet 
for  Mr.  Grierson,  mum,"  she  wound  up.  "  Hav- 
ing nothing  to  do  hisself,  except  just  write,  he 
seemed  to  think  other  folks  couldn't  be  tired  and 
want  to  go  to  bed,  folks  that  worked."  She  em- 
phasised her  words  with  a  truly  British  scorn  for 
those  who  live  by  their  brains.  "  I'm  sure  the 

148 


PEOPLE  OF   POSITION  149 

hours  and  hours  as  I've  sat  up  for  him,  it's  fair 
worn  me  out.  And  him  your  brother,  mum,  and 
uncle  to  these  lovely  little  children,  what  I  re- 
member coming  into  the  world." 

Mrs.  Marlow  wrote  plainly  to  her  brother,  do- 
ing her  duty  without  flinching.  Jimmy  read  the 
letter  with  a  grim  smile,  then  handed  it  to  Lalage, 
who  was  bubbling  over  with  wrath  long  before 
she  reached  the  end  of  it. 

"  They  are  horrid,  Jimmy,  really  they  are. 
They  see  something  wrong  in  everything  you  do. 
It's  quite  enough  to  drive  you  to  the  bad,  never 
giving  you  a  chance,  and  treating  you  like  a  silly 
little  boy.  I'm  sure  you  don't  drink  as  she  says 
you  do.  She  must  be  a  nasty-minded  woman. 
You  know  I  should  be  the  last  to  want  to  separate 
you  from  your  family,  or  anything  like  that,  if 
they  were  good  to  you ;  but  as  it  is,  I'm  sure  you're 
much  better  here  than  in  those  miserable  lodgings, 
all  alone  and  moping.  That  would  make  you 
drink." 

They  were  having  breakfast  at  the  time,  but 
Lalage  looked  so  sweet,  lying  back  in  a  big  wicker 
chair,  wrapped  in  an  old  kimono  of  Jimmy's,  that 
he  felt  compelled  to  lean  over  and  kiss  her. 

"  You  won't  let  me  go  to  drink,  will  you, 
Lalage?"  he  asked. 

"  Of    course    not,"    she    answered    promptly. 


150  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

"  You  know  how  I  feel  about  that.  Yet  your 
people  would  never  believe  it  if  they  found  me — 
when  they  find  me.  We  girls,"  she  looked  up, 
a  little  defiantly,  u  we  girls  are  supposed  to  be 
everything  that  is  bad;  whilst  they,  your  City 
people,  have  got  all  the  virtues,  except  charity, 
which  they  don't  imagine  they  need." 

Jimmy  coloured.  "  You're  a  bit  rough  on 
them  sometimes,  Lalage,"  he  said. 

She  shook  her  head  emphatically.  "  I'm  not 
too  rough.  Have  they  any  idea  of  charity,  any 
idea  of  forgiveness?  If  I  were  able  to  live  re- 
spectably again,  live  a  good  life,  would  they,  or 
any  of  their  kind,  allow  me  to  wipe  out  the  past 
and  start  afresh?  " 

Jimmy  suddenly  became  busy  with  a  cigarette 
he  was  rolling.  "  You  are  living  a  respectable 
life  now,"  he  muttered,  weakly  evading  the  ques- 
tion. 

But  Lalage  smiled  bitterly,  and  then,  with  a 
sudden  change  of  expression,  she  laid  her  hand 
on  his,  very  gently.  "  No,  Jimmy  dear,  let's  be 
straight,  even  amongst  ourselves.  You  are  all 
right,  because  you're  a  man,  and  men  are  allowed 
to  do  these  things;  but  they  would  all  treat  me 
as  a  bad  woman,  as  something  rather  worse  than 
a  dog.  Even  you,  dear,  don't  respect  me,  in  your 
heart,  although  I  have  tried  to  make  you." 


PEOPLE  OF   POSITION  151 

The  man  got  up  suddenly,  tossing  his  newly 
made  cigarette  into  the  grate.  "  I  do  respect  you, 
you  know  I  do.  To  me,  you  come  before  every- 
one else  in  the  world;  and  I  think  as  much  of  you, 

as  if,  as  if "  He  stammered  a  little,  and, 

still  very  gently,  she  finished  the  sentence  for 
him. 

"  As  if  I  were  your  wife." 

Jimmy's  eyes  flashed.  Somehow,  it  sounded 
wonderfully  sweet,  coming  from  her  lips,  and  all 
his  caution,  all  his  Grierson  traditions,  seemed  to 
slip  from  him  suddenly.  He  stood  up,  very 
straight,  facing  her. 

"  My  wife,"  he  said  in  a  low  voice.  "  My 
wife.  Will  you  be  my  wife,  Lalage?" 

The  girl  turned  white,  and  her  hand  went  to 
her  throat,  as  though  she  were  choking,  then  she 
looked  away,  staring  into  the  fire,  whilst  he 
watched  her,  waiting  for  her  answer  with  almost 
pitiful  anxiety. 

"  Dearest,"  she  began  at  last,  "  it's  very  sweet 

of  you "  Then  she  paused  again,  as  though 

searching  for  the  words,  which  came  to  her  at 
last.  "Jimmy,  dearest,  do  you  really  mean  it? 
Remember,  you've  only  known  me  quite  a  little 
time,  and  you  can't  be  sure  of  me  yet.  Can  you? 
You  see,  if  you  made  a  mistake  it  would  spoil  your 
whole  life.  It  means  so  much  to  you." 


152  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

"And  what  does  it  mean  to  you?"  he  asked, 
thickly. 

"  Everything,"  she  answered,  simply.  "  But 
then,  I've  spoilt  my  life  already,  and  I  mustn't 
spoil  yours  too." 

"  You  wouldn't  spoil  it.  You,  know  that  as 
well  as  I  do.  You  would  give  me  something  to 
work  for,  make  me  keep  up  to  the  mark."  He 
was  thoroughly  in  earnest  now,  carried  away 
by  the  fear  of  losing  her.  He  walked  up  and 
down  the  room  a  couple  of  times,  then  stopped 
in  front  of  her.  "  Lalage,"  he  asked,  very  quietly, 
"do  you  love  me?" 

The  girl  nodded,  without  looking  up. 

14  Then  will  you  marry  me?"  He  said  it  de- 
liberately. She  clenched  her  hands,  but  answered 
nothing,  till  he  repeated  his  question,  then  she 
faced  him,  white-lipped  and  wild-eyed. 

"  God  forgive  me  for  saying  it — yes.  But  not 
yet,  Jimmy,  not  yet,"  and  without  allowing  him 
to  kiss  her,  she  jumped  up  and  ran  into  the  other 
room,  shutting  the  door  behind  her. 

Jimmy  walked  down  to  the  club  that  day,  not 
from  reasons  of  economy — there  was  still  some 
of  the  Record  money  left — but  because  he  wanted 
to  think  matters  over,  quietly  and  deliberately. 
He  was  conscious  of  an  unwonted  sense  of  elation 
— Lalage  was  to  be  his,  definitely  and  finally,  so 


PEOPLE  OF   POSITION  153 

that  they  could  face  the  world  openly,  with  none 
of  this  miserable  business  of  subterfuge  and  bogus 
address;  no  one  would  know  of  the  past.  And 
then,  suddenly,  he  went  cold  at  the  thought  of  the 
family  inquisition,  and  the  falsehoods  he  would 
have  to  tell;  whilst,  even  if  the  latter  were  not 
detected,  his  people  would  never  forgive  him  for 
marrying  a  stranger,  never  agree  to  his  marriage 
until  he  was  in  what  they  would  consider  a  good 
position,  which  would  mean  years  of  waiting.  He 
tried  to  picture  Lalage,  with  her  almost  childish 
outlook  on  life,  being  cross-examined  by  the  cold 
and  immaculate  Ida,  or  sitting  down  to  dinner 
in  the  Marlow  house,  where  even  the  servants 
would  turn  up  their  noses  at  the  mention  of  the 
ham  and  beef  shop. 

And  then  if,  after  they  were  married,  they  came 
across  someone  belonging  to  Lalage's  old  life — 
that  was  the  worst  idea  of  all,  intolerable,  wholly 
abominable.  Insensibly,  he  quickened  his  pace,  as 
though  trying  to  get  away  from  the  thought,  then, 
finding  that  useless,  turned  into  a  saloon  bar, 
where  he  remained  a  full  hour,  drinking  whisky 
practically  neat,  and  endeavouring  to  interest  him- 
self in  the  other  people  who  came  into  the  place. 
When,  at  last,  he  did  reach  the  club,  he  was  feel- 
ing much  more  certain  of  the  wisdom  of  his  choice 
and  his  ability  to  manage  his  own  affairs.  He  had 


154  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

determined  to  tell  Douglas  Kelly,  as  practically 
his  only  friend,  about  his  engagement;  and  yet, 
somehow,  he  felt  a  distinct  sense  of  relief  when, 
in  reply  to  his  question,  the  waiter  said: 

"Mr.  Kelly,  sir?  He  has  been  in,  in  a  great 
hurry,  just  for  letters  and  so  on.  But,"  and  he 
lowered  his  voice  discreetly,  knowing  Kelly  to  be 
a  friend  of  Jimmy's  and  two  other  members  being 
near,  "  but  he's  gone  to  Russia,  sir,  all  in  a  hurry. 
Told  me  to  tell  you  he  wouldn't  be  there  very 
long,  at  least  he  thought  not." 

As  Jimmy  turned  away,  he  found  himself  face 
to  face  with  Romsey  of  the  Evening  Post,  of  whom 
he  had  seen  a  good  deal  during  the  last  few 
weeks. 

"  Hullo,  Grierson,"  the  other  said.  "  You 
don't  look  too  cheerful.  I  suppose  you  are  won- 
dering how  the  smash  is  going  to  affect  you." 

Jimmy  knit  his  brow.  "  What  do  you  mean?  " 
he  demanded.  "Who  has  gone  to  smash?" 

The  reporter  gave  him  an  incredulous  look. 
"  Where  on  earth  do  you  live  that  you  haven't 
heard?  Why  the  Comet  ceased  publication  last 
night  without  warning,  which  means  there  are 
forty  of  the  best  men  in  Fleet  Street  out  of  jobs, 
ready  to  scramble  for  the  space  you  and  I  and 
the  other  fellows  used  to  have.  Cheerful  pros- 
pect, isn't  it?" 


PEOPLE  OF   POSITION  155 

Jimmy  did  not  answer.  He  was  wondering 
dully  whether  any  of  these  men  had  ever  felt  the 
same  degree  of  desperate  anxiety  about  the  future 
as  he  was  feeling  then. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

THINGS  were  bad  in  Fleet  Street.  Every- 
one said  so,  and  therefore  it  followed  that 
the  statement  was  true.  Certainly  Jimmy  found 
no  reason  to  doubt  it.  His  manuscripts  came  back 
with  horrible  regularity,  not  so  much  because  they 
were  unsuitable  but  because  there  was  so  little 
space  and  so  many  eager  to  fill  it.  Had  he  been 
more  experienced  he  would  have  known  that 
things  are  always  bad  to  the  majority,  whilst  the 
successful  minority  has  no  time  to  waste  in  telling 
others  how  it  is  getting  on;  but  he  was  raw  to  the 
game,  and  not  over-sanguine  by  nature,  so  instead 
of  being  elated  by  such  little  luck  as  he  did  get 
he  was  terribly  discouraged  when  he  counted  up 
the  total  results  of  a  month's  hard  work.  He 
had  just  managed  to  scrape  together  the  rent  of 
the  flat  and  the  instalment  on  the  hire-purchase 
furniture,  but  that  had  been  all.  There  was  noth- 
ing due  to  him  from  any  of  the  papers;  he  was 
practically  penniless,  as  well  as  a  little  in  debt  to 
such  of  the  local  tradesmen  as  would  allow  any 
credit.  His  own  boots  were  growing  uncomfort- 
ably thin,  whilst,  as  for  Lalage,  he  had  not  been 

156 


PEOPLE   OF    POSITION  157 

able  to  buy  her  a  single  thing.  Not  that  she  asked 
him  for  anything,  rather  otherwise. 

"  I  can  manage,"  she  said  with  a  brave  attempt 
at  cheerfulness.  "These  shoes  will  do  me  for 
some  little  time  yet,  as  I  hardly  ever  go  out,  and 
I  know  you'll  get  me  lots  of  nice  clothes  when  we 
grow  rich." 

But  though  she  tried  to  encourage  him  she  was 
not  very  successful.  It  is  no  easy  task  to  put  a 
new  heart  into  someone  else  when  there  is  a  deadly 
fear  gripping  at  your  own,  and  as  day  after  day 
went  by  and  she  saw  him  growing  thinner,  shab- 
bier, more  weary  and  despondent,  her  own  hopes 
for  the  future  dwindled  down  to  the  vanishing 
point.  Hitherto  he  had  kept  away  from  his  own 
people,  none  of  whom  had  seen  him  since  his  re- 
turn from  Northampton;  but  they  were  always 
there  in  the  background,  and  she  knew  that  he 
had  only  to  abandon  her  and  come  into  line  with 
their  ideas  to  get  his  immediate  needs  supplied  and 
some  provision  made  for  his  future  in  the  shape 
of  a  steady,  respectable  occupation.  She  believed 
in  his  ability  as  a  writer  far  more  than  he  did 
himself,  but  success  meant  months,  even  years,  of 
waiting,  and  she  saw  that  he  had  not  the  strength 
to  wait.  Already  his  nerve  was  going  and  he  was 
trying  to  steady  himself  with  whisky.  Towards 
herself  he  was  very  loving  and  gentle,  at  least  most 


158  PEOPLE   OF  "POSITION 

of  the  time;  but  he  was  quickly  becoming  too 
worried  to  work  in  the  flat.  The  sharp  knock  at 
the  door  which  heralded  the  daily  visit  of  one  or 
other  of  their  small  creditors  would  put  him  off 
work  for  the  rest  of  the  day,  and  before  long 
he  took  to  spending  the  day  at  the  club,  sometimes 
writing,  more  often  mooning  about  in  the  vague 
hope  of  meeting  someone  who  could  help  him  into 
a  regular  berth  on  one  of  the  papers. 

For  Lalage  these  days  passed  with  unutterable 
slowness.  There  was,  of  necessity,  very  little  to 
do  in  the  way  of  cooking,  and  she  had  not  the 
heart  to  go  out.  It  is  miserable  work  looking 
into  the  shop  windows  whilst  your  own  pockets 
are  empty,  and,  moreover,  she  had  long  since 
divined  the  terrible  jealousy  of  the  past  which 
was  always  at  the  back  of  Jimmy's  mind,  and 
she  knew  that  he  hated  her  to  be  out  by  herself, 
although,  on  the  other  hand,  he  seemed  afraid 
to  be  seen  out  with  her.  It  was  the  dread  of  meet- 
ing some  of  his  own  people,  she  understood  that 
perfectly  well,  and  the  knowledge  increased  her 
fears  for  the  future.  In  the  end  she  was  going 
to  lose  everything,  not  only  Jimmy  but  her  little 
home  as  well ;  and  all  because  she  had  been  insane 
enough  to  forget  that  love  was  not  for  such  as 
herself,  because  she  had  been  wilfully  blind  to 
the  fact  that  Jimmy  came  from  the  Griersons, 


PEOPLE   OF    POSITION  159 

and  must  ultimately  go  back  to  the  Griersons  and 
their  kind. 

Now  and  then  there  was  a  red-letter  day,  when 
Dodgson  of  the  Record  wired  for  a  special  article, 
which  probably  meant  two  guineas  on  the  morrow. 
On  those  occasions  Lalage  always  went  down  to 
the  office  with  Jimmy  to  hand  in  the  copy  because, 
as  Jimmy  declared,  she  was  lucky  to  him,  and, 
being  elated  by  the  commission,  he  was  able  to 
put  on  one  side  the  fear  of  meeting  anyone  who 
knew  him.  But  the  next  returned  manuscript 
brought  back  his  depression  and  sent  him  down 
to  the  club  again  to  waste  his  time  and  drink 
whisky. 

Lalage  did  not  blame  him  for  leaving  her  the 
task  of  meeting  the  little  tradesmen,  who  grew 
foul-mouthed  and  truculent  over  an  account  of 
two  or  three  shillings,  as  is  their  wont  in  that  part 
of  London.  Rather,  she  sorrowed  over  the  far 
smaller  share  of  worry  which  did  fall  to  him,  and 
tried  to  take  it  all  on  to  her  own  shoulders.  He 
would  leave  her,  she  fully  believed  that,  and,  had 
she  been  as  her  kind  is  supposed  to  be,  as  per- 
haps it  is,  she  would  have  hastened  his  going  in 
order  to  be  free  again ;  but  because  she  loved  him 
she  was  ready  to  sacrifice  anything  to  keep  him 
as  long  as  possible.  For  Jimmy's  own  sake,  too, 
she  dreaded  his  going  Back  to  his  people,  knowing, 


160  PEOPLE   OF    POSITION 

as  she  did,  that  he  could  never  forget  her,  and 
that  he  would  inevitably  seek  oblivion  and  find 
death  in  the  bottle.  She  had  divined  his  tendency 
that  way  from  the  very  first,  and  the  fear  of  it 
had  never  been  out  of  her  mind  since. 

Jimmy  was  still  keeping  up  the  nominal  address 
at  the  house  just  off  Baker  Street,  and  so  far 
Mrs.  Fagin,  the  landlady,  had  treated  him  with 
fawning  politeness  when  he  paid  his  weekly  rent, 
but  from  the  very  first  he  had  distrusted  her,  and 
he  always  had  the  feeling  that  she  would  sell  his 
secret  if  she  discovered  the  market.  Once  Mrs. 
Marlow  had  called  and  had  been  told  by  the  maid 
that  Mr.  Grierson  was  out  for  the  day  and  his 
room  was  locked,  but  there  was  ever  the  chance 
that  she  might  call  again  and  disclose  her  identity 
to  Mrs.  Fagin.  The  whole  thing  was  a  nightmare 
to  Jimmy,  who  sometimes  found  himself  blaming 
Lalage  in  his  heart  for  having  suggested  the  ar- 
rangement. He  was  a  supremely  miserable  man, 
at  least  when  he  was  alone,  fearful  of  his  own 
people,  terribly  worried  about  money  matters, 
jealous  almost  to  the  point  of  madness,  and 
haunted  by  the  dread  of  losing  Lalage  in  the  end. 
If  only  they  could  have  faced  the  world  openly 
half  the  battle  would  have  been  over,  and  they 
could,  he  told  himself,  have  got  through  the  rest 
somehow  together.  And  yet  since  that  one  day 


PEOPLE   OF    POSITION  161 

of  madness  when  he  had  made  her  promise  to  be 
his  wife  he  had  never  referred  to  the  subject  again. 
He  wanted  her  for  his  own,  and  yet  he  shrank 
from  the  sacrifice  of  marriage.  He  tried  to  quiet 
his  conscience  by  telling  himself  it  was  wiser  to 
wait,  that  it  really  made  little  difference  after  all; 
whilst  Lalage  said  nothing,  being  already  broken- 
hearted and  bankrupt  of  hope. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

WHEN  she  found  time  to  think  about  him  seri- 
ously, which  was  not  very  often,  Mrs.  Mar- 
low  was  far  from  being  satisfied  as  to  Jimmy's 
doings  or  prospects.  Someone  had  reported  hav- 
ing seen  him  walking  down  Fleet  Street  late  at 
night,  looking  ill  and  down  at  heel,  and  the  news 
upset  her.  It  was  not  pleasant  to  have  these  things 
said  about  one  of  the  family,  even  though  he,  him- 
self, might  be  entirely  to  blame  for  it.  She  would 
have  asked  him  down  to  stay  for  a  week-end,  but 
for  the  fact  that  she  did  not  want  him  to  meet 
Ethel  Grimmer  again,  having  the  feeling  that  he 
might  tell  that  lady  things  which  he  would  not 
confide  to  his  own  sister.  But  she  took  counsel 
with  Ida,  and,  in  the  end,  they  decided  that  Walter 
Grierson  was  the  right  person  to  make  an  in- 
vestigation. 

Rather  unwillingly,  Walter  undertook  the  task, 
or  said  he  would  undertake  it,  and,  after  consulta- 
tion with  his  wife,  who  was  not  in  the  least  inter- 
ested, detesting  both  Ida  and  May,  asked  Jimmy 
down  to  stay,  three  or  four  days. 

"  I'm  sure  I  haven't  any  desire  to  go,"  Jimmy 
162 


PEOPLE   OF    POSITION  163 

said,  as  he  read  the  letter  to  Lalage.  Then  he 
coughed  a  little  and  put  his  handkerchief  to  his 
mouth. 

Lalage  watched  him  with  big,  troubled  eyes,  not 
for  the  first  time.  "  I  think  you  had  better  go, 
dear,"  she  said.  "  The  change  may  do  you  good, 
and  it'll  take  your  mind  off  these  stupid  worries. 
I  shall  manage  all  right  alone.  I'm  used  to  it, 
you  see." 

He  took  her  words  in  the  wrong  sense,  and 
glanced  at  her  with  sudden  jealous  suspicion, 
which  she  saw  and  strove  hard  to  ignore.  "  You 
see,  there's  nothing  urgent  due  just  now,"  she 
went  on,  hurriedly,  "  and  I've  enough  food  in  the 
house  to  last  me  out.  If  I  get  some  condensed 
milk  in,  I  can  pretend  we're  both  away." 

Jimmy  had  the  grace  to  feel  ashamed  of  his 
own  thoughts.  "  I  must  see  you  fixed  up,  sweet- 
heart, of  course,  and,  anyway,  one  night  will  be 
enough  for  me  at  Walter's.  As  for  money,  there 
will  be  a  guinea  and  a  half  coming  from  the  Sun- 
day Echo  to-morrow.  It's  their  pay  day,  the  sec- 
ond Friday." 

But  Lalage  shook  her  head.  "  You  must  have 
that  for  a  new  pair  of  boots,  Jimmy,  and  one  or 
two  little  things.  I  can't  let  you  go  as  you  are. 
I  only  wish  there  had  been  more  time,  so  that  we 
could  have  saved  enough  for  a  new  suit  for  you." 


1 64  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

She  looked  at  his  figure  critically.  "  I  know  a 
place  where  they  sell  misfits  very  cheap,  good 
ones,  and  you  might  get  one  to  fit  you.  They 
would  take  my  dinner  dress  in  exchange,  I'm 
sure." 

"No,  no."  Jimy  leaned  forward  and  kissed 
her  hand.  "  I  won't  have  that.  I  can  manage, 
and  if  Mrs.  Walter  thinks  I'm  too  shabby,  she 
won't  ask  me  again,  which  will  be  a  relief." 

Lalage  sighed.  "  I  hate  to  see  you  looking  thin 
and  ill  and  poor.  It  just  breaks  my  heart."  She 
gave  a  little  sob.  "  But,  oh,  Jimmy  dearest,  when 
you  get  to  your  brother's  big  house,  don't  despise 
Lalage  and  our  poor  little  place  here;  because  we 
have  been  so  happy  in  it,  in  spite  of  all  our 
troubles." 

He  drew  her  to  him,  very  gently.  '  That  will 
never  happen,  dear.  I  won't  go  at  all,  if  you're 
afraid  of  anything  like  that.  I  would  much  rather 
not  go,  anyway.  You  are  all  I  want." 

But  she  had  her  way  in  everything,  save  that 
he  insisted  on  leaving  her  five  shillings,  in  addi- 
tion to  laying  in  a  stock  of  provisions. 

"  Really,  I  don't  want  any  money,"  she  said ; 
"  or  a  shilling  at  the  most,  in  case  I  want  to  wire 
to  you.  Take  the  money,  Jimmy,  do;  you  will 
want  a  drink  at  the  station,  and  that  sort  of 
thing." 


PEOPLE  OF    POSITION  165 

He  looked  at  her  with  shining  eyes.  "  Do  you 
ever  think  of  yourself?"  he  asked. 

"  Of  course  I  do,"  she  laughed.  "  I  want  to 
make  you  happy,  and  then  I'm  happy,  so  really 
I'm  selfish,  after  all." 

In  the  end,  Jimmy  stayed  three  days  at  Walter's, 
and,  if  he  did  not  actually  enjoy  himself,  at  least 
he  was  well  content  to  be  there.  It  was  very  re- 
freshing to  be  away  from  all  worries,  to  have  no 
one  asking  you  for  money,  to  feel  you  could  go 
out  of  the  door  without  the  fear  of  meeting  some 
miserable  creditor.  There  was  plenty  to  eat, 
plenty  to  drink;  and,  even  if  he  was  not  actually 
in  sympathy  with  Walter  and  his  ways,  there  was 
always  the  tie  of  blood  between  them.  Mrs.  Wal- 
ter, too,  made  herself  very  pleasant.  She  had  in- 
duced her  husband  to  promise  not  to  lend  Jimmy 
any  money,  so  she  had  nothing  to  fear  from  this 
brother-in-law;  whilst,  by  getting  on  good  terms 
with  him  otherwise,  she  might  be  able  to  use  him 
as  a  pawn  in  her  never-ending  game  against  May 
and  Ida. 

Jimmy  thought  of  Lalage  frequently,  wonder- 
ing how  she  was  getting  on,  and  trying  to  per- 
suade himself  that  he  was  anxious  to  get  back 
to  her;  and  yet,  all  the  time,  he  was  comparing 
his  present  surroundings  with  those  of  the  flat, 
and  dreading  the  return  to  the  dreary  struggle  for 


i66  PEOPLE   OF    POSITION 

existence,  the  hateful  knockings  at  the  door,  the 
insolent  refusal  of  goods  without  cash  down,  the 
feeling  that  you  were  always  on  thin  ice,  in  the 
grip  of  the  Council,  the  blackmailers,  and  the  hire- 
purchase  dealers,  who  did  to  you  as  they  pleased, 
because  they  knew  well  that  you  dare  not  face  the 
world  openly.  There  was  nothing  like  that  at  the 
Walter  Griersons'.  They  lived  as  people  of  posi- 
tion ought  to  live,  as  he,  Jimmy  Grierson,  might 
have  lived,  had  he  not  been  a  fool.  And  then, 
suddenly,  he  thought  of  Lalage's  unselfishness  and 
courage  and  tried  to  tell  himself  that,  after  all,  it 
was  worth  while.  But  still,  he  never  felt  as  he 
had  felt  at  Ida's,  that  fierce  longing  to  be  back  at 
Lalage's  side,  to  fight  the  world  on  her  behalf. 
London  had  broken  his  nerve  rapidly,  and  was 
now  breaking  his  health.  Somehow,  things  had 
changed.  He  longed  for  rest  and  comfort  and 
security,  such  as  his  own  people  enjoyed. 

Walter  Grierson  took  his  wife's  advice  and  did 
not  attempt  to  pry  into  Jimmy's  affairs.  "  He  is 
quite  old  enough  to  look  after  himself,"  Mrs. 
Walter  said,  "  and  I  don't  see  why  you  should  be 
private  detective  for  May  and  Ida.  I  believe  they 
would  try  and  manage  you,  too,  if  I  would  let 
them.  Oh,  but  they  would,  my  dear.  And  yet 
I'm  sure  we  have  a  better  position  than  either  of 
them.  Joseph  is  very  coarse  at  times,  whilst  you 


PEOPLE  OF   POSITION  167 

say  yourself  that  you  do  not  approve  of  several  of 
Henry's  companies."  She  scouted  the  idea  that 
Jimmy  looked  unwell.  "  He's  got  a  cold,  that's 
all;  and  he  smokes  too  much.  Otherwise,  he  is 
well  enough." 

Walter  sighed.  "  I  wish  he  would  go  into  some- 
thing steady.  I'm  afraid  he  will  never  make  an 
income  at  his  present  work." 

Mrs.  Walter  shrugged  her  shoulders.  "  He 
wouldn't  take  your  advice  when  he  first  came  home, 
so  he  can't  blame  you  whatever  happens.  May 
seems  to  be  afraid  he  may  make  some  foolish  mar- 
riage, but  I'm  sure  I  see  no  signs  of  that.  Of 
course,  if  he  likes  to  be  sensible  and  come  to  you 
for  advice  again,  I  should  be  pleased  if  you  were 
able  to  find  him  work  in  the  City;  but,  at  present, 
you  are  not  called  upon  to  interfere.  I  am  sure 
our  own  children  come  first." 

Her  husband  sighed  again.  He  was  quite  fond 
of  this  brother  of  whom  he  knew  so  little,  but  he 
never  ran  counter  to  his  wife's  wishes  in  family 
affairs;  and  so,  when  Jimmy's  stay  came  to  an  end, 
he  allowed  Mrs.  Walter  to  send  May  a  vague, 
though  generally  satisfactory,  report  of  their  visi- 
tor and  his  doings,  which  had  the  result  of  staving 
off  further  inquiries  for  a  time,  at  least. 

"You  look  better,  dear,"  Lalage  said  when 
Jimmy  got  back.  "  I  knew  the  change  would  do 


1 68  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

you  good.  No,  I've  not  been  worried  at  all. 
Only,  of  course,  it's  been  dull  without  you.  .  .  . 
Are  you  going  down  to  the  club  for  letters  ?  Well, 
be  in  to  supper,  won't  you,  dear?  I've  got  some- 
thing very  nice  for  you." 

"  What  is  it?  "  he  asked,  smiling. 

"  You'll  see,"  she  answered.  "  If  I  don't  tell 
you,  you'll  hurry  home  to  find  out.  Otherwise, 
you  may  stay  ever  so  late  at  that  horrid  old  club." 

The  first  man  Jimmy  met  in  the  club  was 
Douglas  Kelly,  newly  returned  from  the  Conti- 
nent. Kelly  listened  attentively  to  his  tale  of  ill- 
success,  and  when  he  had  done,  "  I  really  don't 
see  why  you  should  be  so  down  in  the  mouth, 
Jimmy,"  the  elder  man  said.  "  I  believe  you've 
done  better  than  most  who  start  freelancing  when 
they're  new  to  Fleet  Street.  Why  don't  you  try 
some  magazine  work?  It's  a  better  game  than 
doing  articles  for  the  dailies." 

Jimmy  shook  his  head.  "  I  have  tried,  but  I 
don't  seem  to  get  the  grip  of  a  story.  I  suppose 
I've  no  inventive  power." 

"Rot,"  Kelly  answered  cheerfully.  "It's  be- 
cause you're  worrying,  and  you  can't  do  that  and 
write  decent  stuff.  Have  you  tried  for  a  job  any- 
where?" 

The  other  nodded.  "  Half  a  dozen.  But  they 
all  want  experienced  men,  and,  as  things  stand, 


PEOPLE  OF   POSITION  169 

I  don't  see  how  I'm  ever  going  to  get  the  experi- 
ence." 

"  Would  you  do  sub-editing? "  Kelly  asked. 
"  It's  not  pleasant  work,  going  through  other 
people's  copy,  and  so  on;  but  it's  good  training. 
You  would  take  anything?  All  right.  I'll  see 
Dodgson  to-night.  I  know  he  was  thinking  of 
sacking  one  of  the  subs,  and  he  might  take  you 
on.  I'll  leave  a  note  here  for  you  if  I  don't  see 
you  again.  Of  course,  the  pay  is  rotten,  as  I  sup- 
pose you  know." 

Jimmy  was  so  full  of  his  conversation  with  Kelly 
that  he  had  forgotten  all  about  Lalage's  promised 
surprise  which  was  awaiting  him  at  the  flat.  True, 
he  hurried  back,  but  she  saw  at  once  that  it  was  to 
tell  her  his  news,  and  not  to  find  out  what  she  had 
prepared  for  him;  in  fact,  he  sat  down  at  the 
table,  and  was  about  to  carve,  before  it  struck  him 
that  the  dinner  was  an  unusually  elaborate  one ; 
then,  "  How  on  earth  did  you  manage  it,  sweet- 
heart? "  he  asked. 

She  laughed.  "  How  do  you  think?  I  schemed 
it  out  for  a  whole  day,  all  on  that  five  shillings  you 
made  me  keep.  I  meant  you  to  have  it,  and  you 
see  you've  had  to,  after  all.'* 

The  man  flushed.  "  You  are  a  brick,"  he  said. 
"  You  haven't  spent  a  penny  on  yourself,  and  yet 
I've  been  living  on  the  fat  of  the  land  at  Walter's. 


170  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

But  this  is  better  than  anything  they  gave  me 
there." 

"  That's  right,"  she  answered.  "  So  long  as 
you  enjoy  it,  I  don't  mind  all  the  trouble — so 
long  as  we  enjoy  it  together,  I  meant.  And  now 
if  you  get  this  work  perhaps  the  luck  will  change." 


CHAPTER  XIX 

T  T  was  quite  time  that  the  Record  had  a  vacancy 
•*•  for  a  sub-editor,  and  Dodgson  was  willing  to 
give  the  berth  to  Jimmy;  only  his  ideas  of  salary 
were  far  from  being  satisfactory. 

"  You  see,  you're  new  to  the  work,  wholly  in- 
experienced," he  explained,  "  and,  under  the  cir- 
cumstances, I  cannot  give  you  more  than  two 
pounds  a  week  for  a  start.  Afterwards,  if  the 
chief  sub-editor  is  satisfied,  I  will  raise  it.  If  it 
is  worth  your  while  you  can  start  to-morrow." 

Jimmy  bit  his  lip.  He  had  expected  three 
pounds  at  the  very  least,  and  this  would  be  poor 
news  to  take  back  to  Lalage.  Still,  his  work  would 
only  be  from  about  six  in  the  evening  until  mid- 
night, and  he  could  do  some  articles  or  stories 
during  the  day,  or  at  any  rate  he  hoped  so.  After 
all,  a  certain  two  pounds  was  far  better  than 
nothing,  even  though  the  rent  of  the  flat  would 
swallow  fully  half  of  it.  So  he  accepted,  after  a 
nervous  and  unsuccessful  attempt  to  get  Dodgson 
to  increase  the  offer  by  ten  shillings. 

As  he  walked  back  westwards,  he  found  him- 
self wondering  what  the  editor  would  have  said 

171 


172  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

had  he  explained  how  much  that  extra  ten  shillings 
would  have  meant  to  him.  The  paper  was  paying 
a  dividend  of  twenty  per  cent.,  and  if  the  wages  of 
all  the  sub-editors  had  been  doubled  the  share- 
holders would  never  have  noticed  the  difference; 
but  to  Lalage  and  Jimmy  the  lack  of  that  half- 
sovereign  would  involve  semi-starvation,  unless  it 
were  possible  to  sell  some  articles. 

Lalage  put  on  a  brave  face  when  he  told  her. 
"  It's  a  beginning,  dear,"  she  said.  "  Of  course, 
it's  a  shame  to  pay  a  clever  man  like  you  so  little ; 
but  now  you've  got  your  foot  in,  you'll  soon  get 
on.  You  mustn't  be  downhearted  about  it, 
Jimmy."  She  glanced  at  him  keenly.  "  You're 
tired  out  to-night,  and  I  don't  believe  you've  spent 
anything  on  yourself  in  getting  a  drink  and  so  on; 
and  you've  walked  all  the  way  from  Fleet  Street. 
Now  haven't  you?  " 

Jimmy  tried  to  protest  he  was  all  right,  but  his 
heavy  eyes  betrayed  him,  and  she  insisted  that  he 
should  go  out  and  get  a  quartern  of  brandy. 

"  But  that  will  take  pretty  well  all  we've  got," 
he  answered.  "  And  what  will  you  do  to-mor- 
row?" 

"  Oh,  something  will  happen,"  she  retorted. 
"  And  the  worst  thing  for  me  would  be  to  have 
you  ill.  What  would  poor  Lalage  do  then?  Now 
go,  like  a  dear  good  boy." 


PEOPLE  OF   POSITION  173 

As  the  door  closed  behind  him,  all  the  bright- 
ness left  her  face.  "  I  suppose  his  people  would 
say  I  was  making  him  drink,"  she  sighed.  "  Oh, 
Jimmy,  Jimmy,  I'm  so  afraid.  If  only  I  dare 
agree  to  give  up  this  flat,  and  we  could  go  into 
quite  cheap  lodgings.  But  how  can  I  risk  losing 
everything?" 

Jimmy's  work  proved  more  tiring  than  he  had 
expected.  He  was  thoroughly  conscientious,  sav- 
agely anxious  to  satisfy  the  chief  sub-editor  and 
get  a  raise;  moreover,  he  was  in  anything  but  good 
health.  Consequently,  he  always  got  back  to  the 
flat  in  the  early  mornings  tired  out,  and,  though 
he  tried  hard  to  write  during  the  daytime,  even 
he,  himself,  could  see  that  the  work  he  produced 
was  below  his  usual  level.  Anyway,  it  did  not 
sell,  coming  back  every  time  with  sickening  regu- 
larity. 

Despite  his  protests,  Lalage  always  insisted  on 
sitting  up  for  him.  "  You  must  have  something 
hot  when  you  come  in,'*  she  declared,  "even  if 
we  can  only  run  to  a  cup  of  cocoa  and  a  little 
bit  of  plaice  from  the  fried  fish  shop.  You  can't 
do  brain  work  on  nothing." 

Jimmy  gladly  left  all  the  finances  to  her.  Some- 
times he  wondered  how  she  contrived  to  feed  him 
as  well  as  she  did,  besides  paying  the  rent,'  and 
letting  him  have  at  least  a  shilling  a  night  when 


174  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

he  went  down  to  the  office.  She  even  managed 
to  get  some  bottled  stout  for  him,  and  yet,  at  any 
rate  whilst  he  was  at  home,  no  one  came  to  the 
door  to  dun  her  for  money.  Had  he  been  stronger, 
he  would  probably  have  been  suspicious  and  have 
made  inquiries;  but  he  was  thoroughly  run  down 
and  weary,  and  only  too  ready  to  be  free  from 
household  worries.  He  had  never  kept  house  him- 
self, knew  but  little  of  the  cost  of  things,  and 
had  infinite  faith  in  Lalage's  capacity  for  manage- 
ment. 

Once  or  twice,  during  the  first  three  months  of 
Jimmy's  engagement  at  the  Record,  Dodgson 
asked  him  to  write  a  special  article  with  reference 
to  something  which  had  happened  abroad,  and, 
when  he  went  to  draw  his  money  for  the  first  of 
these,  Jimmy  found  that  his  rate  had  been  raised 
to  three  guineas  a  column;  but  his  weekly  wage 
remained  the  same,  and,  somehow,  he  could  not 
summon  up  courage  to  ask  boldly  for  a  raise.  He 
was,  as  Lalage  could  see  plainly,  growing  a  little 
thinner,  a  little  more  weary  and  nervous,  every 
week. 

At  the  end  of  the  second  month,  Lalage  sprang 
a  surprise  on  him.  They  were  at  breakfast  when, 
with  a  rather  heightened  colour,  she  brought  five 
sovereigns  out  of  her  purse  and  gave  them  to  him. 
"  Jimmy,"  she  said,  hurriedly,  "  you  must  get  a 


PEOPLE  OF    POSITION  175 

new  suit,  and  some  collars  and  ties  and  things, 
really  you  must." 

He  looked  at  the  money,  then  at  her.  "  Where 
did  you  get  this,  Lalage?  "  he  asked,  very  quietly. 

She  faced  him  so  bravely  that  his  suspicions  van- 
ished at  once.  "  I  saved  it  up,  from  those  articles 
of  yours." 

"And  how  about  you?  You  want  things  far 
more  than  I  do,  sweetheart.  I  don't  think  you 
have  had  any  new  clothes  since  I  met  you." 

Lalage  shook  her  head  vehemently.  "That's 
for  you.  You  have  to  go  to  work,  and  it  worries 
me  terribly  when  I  see  you  shabby.  You  will 
feel  ever  so  much  better  when  you've  got  a  new 
suit,  and  they'll  think  more  of  you  at  the  office. 
Clothes  give  one  confidence.  Now,  you  shall 
come  out  this  morning  and  order  a  nice  dark  tweed, 
or  a  grey.  I'm  not  sure  I  shan't  like  you  best  in 
grey.  Anyway,  we'll  see." 

The  new  clothes  certainly  made  Jimmy  look  bet- 
ter, and,  for  a  little  while,  Lalage  deluded  herself 
into  the  belief  that  he  really  was  growing  stronger; 
then  one  night  he  came  home  shivering,  with  a 
severe  chill,  and  his  old  enemy,  the  malaria, 
gripped  him  again.  True,  he  was  only  absent 
from  the  office  two  nights ;  but  the  trouble  seemed 
to  remain,  and  Lalage  had  to  redouble  her  efforts 
to  feed  him  up.  Often,  during  those  days,  she 


i76  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

tried  to  steel  herself  into  sending  him  away,  into 
forcing  him  to  go  back  to  his  own  people  to  be 
nursed  as  they  could  afford  to  nurse  him ;  but  when 
it  came  to  the  point  of  speaking,  her  resolution 
always  failed  her.  She  could  not  bear  to  part 
from  him — yet.  And,  if  she  did  send  him  away, 
there  was  always  the  fear,  amounting  almost  to 
a  certainty,  that  he  would  drink  to  drown  remem- 
brance of  her. 

No,  she  told  herself,  she  must  keep  him  as 
long  as  she  could,  for  his  own  sake,  as  well  as 
for  hers.  What  would  happen  to  herself  if  the 
parting  did  come,  she  never  tried  to  consider. 
The  thought  of  it  was  too  awful.  Jimmy  had 
been  so  sweet  and  kind  and  thoughtful  that  it 
was  absolutely  impossible  for  her  to  imagine  any- 
one replacing  him.  The  fact  that  the  question 
of  marriage  between  them  had  been  tacitly 
dropped  did  not  weigh  with  her  now.  She  had 
never  dared  to  hope  that  he  would  redeem  his 
promise  eventually;  and,  latterly,  she  had  tried 
to  make  herself  forget  that  the  matter  had  ever 
been  mentioned  between  them. 

Jimmy  had  seen  none  of  his  own  people  since 
his  visit  to  the  Walter  Griersons'.  His  work  gave 
him  a  good  and  sufficient  excuse  for  not  leaving 
town,  and  it  never  occurred  to  him  to  call  on 
either  Henry  or  Walter  in  the  City.  Still,  he 


PEOPLE  OF    POSITION  177 

wrote  frequently;  and,  as  time  went  on,  he  began 
to  lose  some  of  his  fear  of  their  discovering  the 
existence  of  Lalage.  Neither  Ida  nor  May  seemed 
to  have  any  suspicions,  so  far  as  he  could  judge 
from  their  letters.  Consequently,  it  gave  him  a 
terrible  shock  when,  one  morning,  about  the  begin- 
ning of  his  fourth  month  on  the  Record,  he  re- 
ceived a  wire  from  May  commanding  him  to  meet 
her  as  soon  as  possible  at  Walter's  office. 

Lalage,  who  had  gone  deadly  pale,  picked  up 
the  detestable  brown  envelope. 

"  It's  addressed  here.  So  they  know,"  she 
whispered. 

"  Yes,  they  know,"  he  repeated  dully. 

They  sat  for  a  long  time  in  silence,  then  he  got 
up,  evidently  intending  to  go  out. 

Lalage  stood  up,  too.  "  Jimmy,  you  will  leave 
me,"  she  said. 

He  turned  round  quickly  and  took  her  in  his 
arms.  "  Never,  never,  sweetheart.  After  all 
you've  done  for  me  I  You  ought  to  know  me  bet- 
ter." 

For  answer,  she  gave  him  a  long,  passionate 
kiss,  as  though  saying  farewell. 


CHAPTER   XX 

S.  MARLOW  was  a  good  woman.  The 
rector  himself  had  told  her  so  only  the  week 
before  when  she  had  given  him  a  cheque  for 
twenty  guineas  in  aid  of  his  favourite  charity,  the 
Mission  to  the  Moabites.  Consequently,  the  dis- 
covery of  Jimmy's  double  life  had  filled  her  with 
both  sorrow  and  loathing;  sorrow  at  the  thought 
that  a  Grierson  should  have  been  so  weak  and  fool- 
ish, loathing  at  the  conduct  of  the  woman  who 
led  him  astray.  She  was  sitting  very  grim  and 
upright  in  the  client's  chair  when  Jimmy  came  in; 
whilst  Walter  was  at  the  other  side  of  the  table, 
nervously  playing  with  his  eyeglasses  and  wishing 
inwardly  he  had  telegraphed  for  his  wife,  a  pro- 
posal which  May  had  vetoed. 

"  Excuse  me,  Walter,  but  this  is  a  matter  for 
our  father's  children  only,"  she  had  said,  and  Wal- 
ter had,  as  usual,  bowed  to  her  ruling.  Ever  since 
their  mother's  death  May  had  been  the  high  priest- 
ess of  the  family  fetish,  the  position  of  the  Grier- 
sons. 

The  two  brothers  shook  hands  in  silence,  but 
Mrs.  Marlow  made  no  move  beyond  the  very 

178 


PEOPLE   OF    POSITION  179 

slightest  nod,  which  seemed  to  be  merely  a  recog- 
nition of  the  fact  that  the  culprit  had  arrived. 

Jimmy  laid  his  hat  on  the  table,  then  went  and 
leaned  against  the  fireplace  with  an  assumption 
of  indifference.  "  Well,  May,"  he  said  at  last, 
"what  is  it?" 

His  sister  turned  on  him  suddenly.  "  Please 
don't  be  a  hypocrite  any  more,  Jimmy,  if  you 
can  help  it."  Her  voice  was  hard  and  scornful. 
"  You  must  know  from  my  wire  that  we  have 
found  out  all  about  your  disgraceful  conduct.  As 
a  matter  of  fact  we  knew  of  it  a  week  ago,  and 
might  have  sent  for  you  then,  but  we  have  had 
detectives  making  inquiries  into  that,"  she  hesi- 
tated, "  that  person's  character  and  antecedents  in 
the  hope  of  being  able  to  open  your  eyes.  Isn't 
that  so,  Walter?" 

The  elder  man  nodded  and  gave  a  little  grunt 
of  acquiescence,  though  it  was  obvious  he  did  not 
relish  being  dragged  into  the  matter  at  all. 

Jimmy,  white  with  sudden  passion,  took  a  step 
forward.  "  Confound  it,  May1 "  he  began. 

His  sister  put  her  hands  to  her  ears.  "  Please 
don't  make  it  worse  by  swearing  at  me.  I  am 
not  the  Penrose  woman.  We  have  the  right  to 
speak  to  you  as  one  of  the  family,  if  only  to  save 
you  from  further  disgrace,  and  perhaps  prosecu- 
tion,"— she  emphasised  the  last  words,  and  then 


180  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

repeated  them,  u  yes,  from  prosecution.  Not  only 
has  this  person  been  bleeding  you,  working  you  to 
death,  and  taking  your  last  penny " 

Jimmy,  remembering  all  that  Lalage  had  done 
for  him  during  the  past  three  months,  cut  her 
short  savagely.  "  That's  a  lie.  She's  been  every- 
thing a  woman  should  be  to  me." 

His  sister  laughed  in  bitter  scorn.  "And  to 
half  a  dozen  other  men  as  well.  Oh,  Jimmy, 
Jimmy,  what  a  fool  you  are,  how  you've  been 
fooled.  Do  you  think  she's  been  true  to  you? 
Do  you  think  a  vile  creature  like  that  could  be 
true  to  anyone?  No,  I  will  speak  for  all  your 
swearing  at  me.  Do  you  think  that  whilst  you 
have  been  slaving  at  that  office  at  nights  she  has 
been  at  home  thinking  of  you?  Oh,  you  have 
been  a  blind  fool !  She  has  told  you  lies  about 
everything,  over  the  rent,  over  the  amount  she 
had  to  pay  to  the  hire-purchase  people,  over  what 
she  was  spending.  Do  you  think  your  paltry  two 
pounds  a  week  was  sufficient  to  dress  her  and  keep 
her  in  luxury?  " 

Jimmy  turned  away,  gripping  the  mantelpiece 
for  support.  He  remembered  many  little  things 
which  had  given  him  a  momentary  pang  of  suspi- 
cion at  the  time;  now,  suddenly  those  suspicions 
became  certainties;  and  when  he  looked  round 
again  his  face  was  five  years  older,  for  he  had 


PEOPLE  OF    POSITION  181 

loved  Lalage,  and  he  knew  that  May  was  telling 
him  the  truth.  He  had  been  a  blind  fool ;  but  still 
the  remembrance  of  the  past  was  strong  in  him, 
and  he  made  a  last  fight  against  believing. 

"  It's  a  lie,  it's  a  lie,"  he  repeated  hoarsely. 
There  was  something  in  his  eyes  which  nearly 
broke  down  May's  hardness,  a  look  she  had  never 
seen  on  any  man's  face  before,  which  she  never 
got  out  of  her  memory  again. 

"  I  know  it  hurts,  Jimmy,  dear,"  she  said  far 
more  gently.  "  It  must  hurt  because  you've  been 
infatuated  by  a  very  clever  and  bad  woman;  but 
for  all  that  it  is  true.  Do  you  know  anything  of 
her  past?  What  has  she  told  you?  We  know 
now  that  she  was  the  daughter  of  a  scientific  writer, 
and  that,  even  when  he  lay  on  his  dying  bed,  she 
went  away  with  someone,  then  came  baclc  with  a 
lie  In  her  mouth,  about  having  been  to  town,  selling 
one  of  his  unpublished  books.  Her  own  aunt  told 
us  of  it,  her  aunt  by  marriage." 

"  I  don't  believe  it.  I  won't  believe  it,"  Jimmy 
muttered. 

May "  shrugge'd  her  shoulders.  "  We  have 
proofs,  the  best  of  proofs.  Is  it  not  so,  Walter?  " 

The  elder  brother  nodded  without  looking  up. 
In  his  case,  too,  it  was  the  first  time  tragedy, 
real  tragedy,  had  come  into  his  life,  and  it  was 
making  him  think.  He  realised  dimly  that  the 


1 82  PEOPLE   OF    POSITION 

light  had  gone  out  for  Jimmy,  and  as  he  scratched 
lines  on  his  blotting-pad  with  the  rim  of  his  eye- 
glasses, he  fell  to  wondering,  in  a  dull,  far-off 
sort  of  way,  whether  his  brother  would  shoot  him- 
self as  their  father  had  done,  and  what  the  coro- 
ner's verdict  would  be,  and  what  the  world,  by 
which  he  meant  the  City,  would  say.  Then  the 
spring  of  his  glasses  snapped  suddenly,  and  the 
annoyance  brought  him  back  sharply  to  the  imme- 
diate present. 

"  Yes,  we  have  complete  proof,  legal  proof," 
he  said.  "  Your  sister  is  quite  right."  Words 
seemed  to  be  failing  him,  then  he  got  up  abruptly 
and  laid  a  kindly  hand  on  Jimmy's  shoulder,  as 
he  had  often  done  many  years  before  when  they 
had  both  been  boys.  "  It's  better  for  you  to  know, 
old  man.  She's  a  bad  lot,  and  you're  well  clear 
of  it  all.  You'll  soon  forget  her  and  find  someone 
very  different." 

His  words  had  the  effect  of  rousing  May's 
anger  anew.  "  Don't  talk  like  that,  Walter, 
please,"  she  said  sharply.  "  It's  hardly  decent  un- 
der the  present  circumstances.  I  presume,  Jimmy, 
that  after  what  we  have  told  you,  you  will  neither 
see  nor  write  to  that  creature  again." 

Jimmy's  eyes  flashed.  "  I  shall  see  her  and  ask 
her  side  of  it.  Am  I  to  condemn  her  unheard  on 
the  strength  of  the  gossip  some  vile  hangers-on 


PEOPLE   OF    POSITION  183 

have  concocted  in  return  for  your  money?  I  shall 
go  down  there  at  once." 

Mrs.  Marlow's  laugh  was  very  scornful.  "  I 
said  you  were  a  fool.  Of  course,  she'll  lie  to  you 
again,  and  wheedle  round  you.  As  for  the 
hangers-on,  to  use  your  own  elegant  term,  I  heard 
first  from  Mrs.  Fagin,  who  is  a  most  respectable 
woman,  I  find,  with  a  husband  in  a  very  good  posi- 
tion in  the  Council  office.  SHe  had  no  idea  she 
was  lending  herself  to  such  a  deception,  and  sent 
me  to  the  mayor,  who  very  kindly  had  inquiries 
made.  Then  we  actually  caught  this  woman,  as 
you  can  see  by  these." 

She  held  out  a  little  bundle  of  papers  which 
Jimmy  took  mechanically,  fingered  for  a  moment, 
then  with  a  sudden  resolution  he  tossed  it  into  the 
fire,  and  as  it  did  not  catch  immediately  drove  it 
down  into  the  glowing  coals  with  the  heel  of  his 
boot. 

May  watched  him  in  silence,  but  when  the  blaze 
had  died  down  again,  "  That  stupid  action  won't 
alter  the  facts,"  she  said;  "and  I  may  as  well 
tell  you  that  the  mayor  has  asked  the  police  to 
make  her  leave  that  flat.  I  am  only  sorry  there  is 
no  charge  we  can  bring  against  her.  Anyway,  she 
will  be  watched,"  she  added  vindictively.  "  Ida 
has  gone  to  warn  her  now  in  case  she  tries  to  black- 
mail you." 


1 84  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

Jimmy  took  up  his  hat  quickly.  "  Good-bye, 
Walter,"  he  said  quietly,  and,  ignoring  his  sister, 
fumbled  a  little  uncertainly  for  the  handle  of  the 
door. 

May  sprang  up  and  seized  his  arm.  "  Jimmy, 
oh,  Jimmy,  dear,  don't  go  like  that,  don't  go  back 
to  her.  We  are  your  own  people,  you  must  re- 
member that,  and  because  we  love  you,  we  want 
to  overlook  all  this  and  see  you  get  on.  Don't 
spoil  your  life  in  this  way  and  make  us  all  miser- 
able. If  you  see  her  again  she  has  enough  wicked 
cleverness  to  get  you  back  into  her  power." 

There  was  genuine  feeling  in  her  voice,  and 
for  a  moment  Jimmy  was  inclined  to  change  his 
mind,  then  he  released  her  clutch  very  gently,  and 
without  another  word  went  out  of  the  office. 

"  He  will  go  back  to  her,  Walter,  I  am  sure  he 
will.  He  is  weak  enough  for  anything  where  a 
woman  is  concerned,"  May  sobbed. 

Walter  shook  his  head.  "  I  think  not.  No, 
I'm  sure  he  won't,"  he  said  with  a  degree  of 
assurance  he  was  far  from  feeling;  then  he  looked 
at  his  watch.  "  Well,  I've  got  an  appointment 
with  a  client  in  a  few  minutes,  May;  I  don't  want 
to  hurry  you  off,  but " 

May  wiped  her  eyes  and  drew  down  her  veil. 
"  I  do  hope  Ida  manages  to  frighten  her  away 
before  Jimmy  gets  there,"  she  said. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

T  DA  FENTON  did  not  shrink  from  the  task  of 
interviewing  Lalage.  Rather  otherwise,  in 
fact,  for  her  own  conduct  had  always  been  so  cor- 
rect, both  her  nature  and  her  circumstances  com- 
bining to  keep  her  out  of  temptation,  that  she  felt 
a  repulsion,  verging  almost  on  hatred,  towards 
those  who  had  erred;  consequently,  she  took  a 
kind  of  grim  pleasure  in  chastening  the  sinner. 
Unconsciously,  too,  Joseph  Fenton  had  made 
things  worse  for  Lalage  by  attempting  a  remon- 
strance. 

"  I  think  you  and  May  are  going  too  far,  put- 
ting the  police  on  her  and  so  on,"  he  had  said. 
"Why  can't  you  be  content  to  give  Jimmy  a 
warning,  and  leave  the  girl  alone.  It  looks  bad, 
being  so  vindictive." 

Whereupon  Ida  had  turned  on  him  in  one  of 
those  cold  outbursts  of  fury  which  his  rare  attempts 
at  independence  always  provoked.  She  had  given 
up  her  life  to  this  man,  whose  natural,  easy-going 
weakness  of  character  she  knew  so  well;  and  now 
he  actually  dared  to  put  in  a  good  word  for  an 
abandoned  woman.  As  a  rule,  Joseph  bowed  to 

185 


1 86          PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

the  storm,  but  on  this  occasion  he,  too,  had  lost 
his  temper,  and  then,  suddenly  Ida  had  under- 
stood, or  had  thought  she  understood.  Joseph 
knew  Lalage's  address.  Jealousy  redoubled  Ida's 
bitterness,  and  she  went  to  the  flat  more  than  ever 
determined  to  hunt  its  occupant  out  into  the  streets. 
A  woman  as  good  as  herself  had  a  perfect  right 
to  be  merciless. 

When  Lalage  opened  the  door  she  realised  in- 
stantly who  her  visitor  must  be.  That  hard,  beau- 
tiful face  was  as  like  Jimmy's  in  features  as  it  was 
unlike  his  in  expression.  Looking  at  it,  Lalage 
understood  that  her  own  cause  was  lost;  it  would 
be  quite  useless  pleading  to  Ida  Fenton. 

The  visitor  swept  in  scornfully.  Lalage  closed 
the  door  and  then  stood,  waiting,  white-faced  and 
desperate. 

"  I  have  come  for  Mr.  Grierson's  things. 
Kindly  pack  them  up  and  have  them  taken  down 
to  my  cab."  Ida's  quiet  voice  belied  the  savage 
anger  which  the  sight  of  this  girl  had  aroused. 

Lalage  started.  She  had  never  thought  of  this. 
Could  it  be  that  Jimmy  was  not  coming  back  at  all, 
even  to  say  "  Good-bye,"  that  she  would  never 
see  him  again? 

"Did  he  send  you?"  she  asked  breathlessly. 

In  a  good  cause,  Ida  did  not  hesitate  to  strain 
the  truth.  "  Of  course,"  she  answered  impa- 


PEOPLE  OF   POSITION  187 

tiently,  then  she  went  a  little  too  far,  and  added 
something  which  she  thought  would  hurt.  "  He 
is  waiting  down  below  now." 

Lalage  made  a  rapid  mental  calculation.  Jimmy 
had  only  set  out  for  the  City  twenty  minutes  be- 
fore, and  could  not  have  returned,  so  she  laughed 
bitterly.  "  I  will  give  them  to  Mr.  Grierson  when 
he  comes  for  them  himself,"  she  answered. 

Ida's  steely  eyes  glittered.  "  He  will  not  be 
such  a  fool  as  to  come  back,  weak  and  wicked 
though  he  has  been." 

The  younger  woman  took  a  step  forward  so 
suddenly  that  Mrs.  Fenton  recoiled.  "  He  is  not 
weak  and  wicked.  It  is  abominable  for  you,  his 
sister,  to  say  so.  He  is  far  too  good  for  any  of 
you,  and  whatever  he  has  done  wrong,  you  are 
to  blame  for  it.  You  never  tried  to  understand 
him  or  help  him.  You  just  left  him  drift  away 
because  he  didn't  fall  in  with  your  narrow-minded 
ideas.  I  may  have  done  wrong,  I  have  done 
wrong;  but  he  has  always  been  all  that  is  good  and 
true  and  honourable.  He  may  leave  me,  but  he'll 
never  go  back  to  you,  never,  never,  never."  She 
paused,  breathless. 

Ida  Fenton  had  recovered  her  composure. 
"  Perhaps  it  will  alter  your  point  of  view  when 
I  tell  you  that  if  my  brother  continues  to  know 
you,  he  will  never  get  anything  from  his  family. 


1 88  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

We  shall  cut  Kim  off  entirely.  I  believe  that  is 
the  kind  of  argument  which  appeals  to  persons 
of  your  sort."  She  emphasised  the  last  two  words. 
"  He  may  have  misled  you  with  the  idea  that  he 
could  get  money  out  of  us;  but  that  was  quite 
wrong;  whilst,  as  for  his  own  prospects,  he  is 
no  good  and  never  will  be." 

"  You  shan't  say  that  about  him,"  Lalage  broke 
in  passionately.  "  It's  only  your  ignorance  and 
your  jealousy  of  his  cleverness." 

Ida  shrugged  her  shoulders  scornfully.  "  No 
doubt  you  are  a  judge  of  what  is  correct  and  right. 
You  should  know  my  brother  by  now.  But  I 
think  he,  too,  will  have  learnt  all  about  you  this 
morning.  That  telegram  which  trapped  you  a 
few  nights  back,  calling  you  out  to  meet  a  man 
in  the  West  End,  was  sent  by  one  of  my  brother- 
in-law's  clerks.  You  were  watched  then,  and  rec- 
ognised by  the  police.  You  will  get  notice  to  leave 
here  to-day,  and  I  do  not  think  you  will  find 
another  place  in  London.  If  you  can  explain  all 
that  to  my  brother  to  his  satisfaction,  he  must  be 
such  a  fool  that  you  will  be  welcome  to  him." 

Then  she  swept  out,  feeling  she  had  vindicated 
the  Grierson  tradition. 

It  was  an  hour  later,  when  Lalage  heard  Jimmy's 
key  in  the  lock.  She  was  sitting  huddled  up  in 
a  big  armchair,  his  favourite  chair;  but  she  did 


PEOPLE  OF   POSITION  189 

not  move  when  he  came  in,  and  stood  in  front  of 
her,  though  she  had  noticed  that  he  was  dragging 
his  feet  a  little,  and  breathing  heavily,  as  though 
the  stairs  had  exhausted  him. 

"Well?"  he  said  at  last. 

She  turned  her  head  away.  "  Your  sister  came 
soon  after  you  left,"  she  said,  in  a  curious,  dull 
voice. 

Jimmy  started.  "Ida?  Ida  has  been  here  al- 
ready? "  He  passed  his  hand  over  his  forehead  in 
a  dazed  sort  of  way,  then  tried  to  pull  himself 
together,  as  though  to  meet  a  blow.  "  Is  it  true, 
Lalage?  "  he  asked. 

She  answered  him  with  a  no'd. 

On  the  second  time  that  day,  Jimmy  steadied 
himself  by  the  mantelpiece,  only  now  his  head 
went  down  on  to  his  arms,  and  Lalage  heard  him 
give  a  sob. 

In  an  instant  she  was  on  her  feet,  trying  to 
turn  his  face  towards  hers.  "  Oh,  I  did  it  all  for 
you,  Jimmy,  I  did  it  all  for  you.  Do  you  believe 
that,  oh,  you  must  believe  that.  You  were  ill  and 
half-starving,  and  I  had  to  get  you  nourishment 
and  clothes.  It  was  the  quickest  way,  the  only 
way  I  could  think  of;  and  it  seemed  so  lovely  to 
get  you  good  food,  and  make  you  stronger.  It 
was  awful,  but  it  would  have  been  more  awful  to 
see  you  dying.  Jimmy,  believe  me,  you  must  be- 


PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

lieve  me,  every  penny  went  for  you.  I  didn't 
want  it  for  myself,  only  for  you;  and  I  thought 
when  the  worry  and  the  knocking  at  the  door  by 
the  tradesmen  were  over,  you  would  soon  get  on, 
and  then  I  would  have  stopped,  oh,  so  gladly. 
Jimmy,  dear,  Jimmy,  sweetheart,  say  you  under- 
stand, even  if  you  don't  forgive." 

The  man  looked  up,  and,  for  the  first  time, 
Lalage  saw  how  he  had  changed.  He  was  livid 
and  ghastly,  and,  when  he  tried  to  speak,  he  caught 
his  breath  and  coughed  heavily.  Lalage  waited 
with  pitiful  anxiety  for  his  answer. 

"  I  understand,"  he  said,  "  but  you  ought  not 
to  have  done  it,  after  your  promising  to  marry 


me." 


She  turned  away  hopelessly,  and  sank  into  the 
chair  again,  knowing  she  had  lost  him.  "  I  did 
it  for  the  best,"  she  wailed.  "  I  only  thought  of 
you,  Jimmy,  only  of  you." 

"You  were  wrong,"  he  answered  dully.  "We 
were  both  wrong.  It  has  all  been  a  mistake  from 
the  first.  There  is  nothing  but  misery  in  this  sort 
of  life,  there  can  only  be  misery."  He  was  talk- 
ing in  a  detached  kind  of  way,  as  though  the  pain 
of  the  blow  had  been  succeeded  by  a  mental  numb- 
ness. 

Lalage  was  sobbing  very  quietly  in  the  chair; 
it  was  the  end  of  everything  for  her. 


PEOPLE  OF   POSITION  191 

After  a  while,  "What  will  you  do  now?"  he 
asked. 

She  shook  her  head.  "  I  don't  know.  I  don't 
think  I  care,  now  I've  lost  you."  She  waited  a 
moment  in  a  last,  desperate  hope  he  would  cor- 
rect her,  then  went  on,  "  Your  people  have  been 
to  the  police,  and  they're  hunting  me  out.  Al- 
ready, the  agent  has  been  round  to  give  me  notice 
to  go  immediately,  and  the  hire-purchase  people 
are  sending  for  the  furniture  back.  Everything 
has  gone.  Still  I  shall  manage." 

In  a  flash,  he  was  jealous  again.  "  Do  you 

mean  to  say "  he  began;  but  she  cut  him 

short. 

"  No,  Jimmy,  not  that.  You  need  never  fear 
the  old  life  again." 

Her  words  gave  him  a  new  fear.  "  Will  you 
promise  you  won't  kill  yourself?  "  He  had  come 
nearer  to  her,  and  she  thought  he  was  going  to 
touch  her. 

For  a  moment  she  hesitated,  confirming  his  sus- 
picions. 

"  Promise,"  he  said,  almost  sternly. 

Then  she  looked  up,  and  asked  him  a  question 
in  turn :  "  What  will  you  do,  Jimmy?  " 

He  had  no  reply  ready,  or,  at  any  rate,  he  did 
not  reply,  and  she  went  on.  <{T  will  promise  that, 
Jimmy,  if  you  will  promise  me  something.  Prom- 


i92  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

ise,  on  your  word  of  honour,  not  to  let  this  ruin 
your  life,  not  to  go  wrong  and  drink." 

Jimmy  did  as  she  had  done;  he  hesitated  a  mo- 
ment. "  I  will  promise,  if  you  will  do  as  I  want — 
go  down  into  the  country,  away  from  this  horrible 
town,  and  live  quietly.  I  will  manage  the  money, 
somehow." 

"  And  not  see  you  again  ?  Jimmy,  you  don't 
mean  not  see  you  again,  just  as  a  friend,  only  as 
a  friend?" 

His  silence  answered  her,  and  she  fell  to  sob- 
bing once  more,  very  quietly  this  time,  whilst  he 
stood  at  the  window,  staring  out  at  nothing,  At 
last,  she  grew  calm  and  stood  up,  drying  her  eyes. 

11  Very  well,"  she  said.  "  I  will  leave  it  all  to 
you,  because  I  can't  help  myself.  After  a  time, 
when  I  feel  better,  I  shall  get  something  to  do, 
perhaps,  in  a  shop,  or  dressmaking.  Only,  the 
quieter  the  place  the  better;  and,  Jimmy,  whatever 
you  do,  you  must  not  let  your  people  know  where 
I  am." 

"  It  is  hardly  likely  I  shall  see  much  of  them," 
he  answered  grimly.  "  I  think  you  had  better 
go  to  some  quiet  hotel  to-night,"  he  added.  "  Get 
your  things  together,  and  I  will  see  you  to-morrow 
and  arrange  matters  then.  You  say  they  are  seiz- 
ing all  this  furniture  and  so  on." 

They  had  both  got  back  to  a  kind  of  forced 


PEOPLE  OF   POSITION  193 

calmness  now,  and  she  answered  him  quietly. 
"  Yes,  my  poor  little  home  is  going.  It's  no  good 
protesting;  your  sisters  have  made  that  impossi- 
ble; and  these  people  can  do  just  as  they  like.  I 
suppose  the  landlord  telephoned  to  the  furniture 
people,  and  they  are  going  shares.  Yet  I  have 
already  paid  more  than  the  goods  are  worth." 

Half  an  hour  later,  she  came  out  of  the  bed- 
room with  her  hat  on. 

"  I  have  packed  your  things  as  well,  Jimmy. 
What  are  you  going  to  do  with  them?  Will  you 
take  them  away  now,  and  then  I  can  leave  the 
keys  at  the  agent's  office  as  we  go  past." 

Jimmy  started.  He  had  forgotten  they  were 
both  homeless  now.  "  Yes,  I  suppose  so.  I 
hadn't  thought.  I  will  go  to  the  hotel  I  stayed 
at  before,  and  then  take  you  down  to  another. 
I  will  go  and  get  a  cab." 

Whilst  he  was  out,  Lalage  hastily  tidied  up  her 
little  kitchen;  then,  taking  a  dustpan  and  brush, 
she  swept  up  a  few  scraps  of  mud  which  had  come 
off  Jimmy's  boots.  In  a  drawer  of  the  table  she 
found  his  pen  and  a  scrap  of  blotting  paper  he 
had  used,  and  thrust  them  hurriedly  into  her  dress. 
Then,  during  a  final  look  round,  she  kissed  in  turn 
each  article  of  furniture  he  had  been  wont  to  use, 
heedless  of  the  tears  that  were  dropping  on  them, 
coming  last  of  all  to  his  own  chair,  where  she 


194  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

knelt  down  and  buried  her  face  in  the  seat.  She 
was  still  there  when  she  heard  his  step  on  the  stairs; 
but  she  jumped  up  hastily  and  met  him  in  the  little 
hall,  whither  she  had  dragged  the  luggage. 

"  It  is  all  ready  now,"  she  said,  and  went  out 
without  looking  back. 

When  Jimmy  got  down  to  the  club  a  couple  of 
hours  later,  he  found  a  telegram  waiting  for  him 
in  the  rack,  signed  "  Joseph  Fenton." 

It  read:  "Meet  me  any  time  to-night  at  the 
Grand  Central  Hotel.  Shall  be  alone." 


CHAPTER  XXII 

JIMMY  heaved  a  sigh  of  relief  as  he  read  the 
**  telegram.  In  after  years,  he  looked  back  on  it 
as  the  one  ray  of  brightness  in  the  most  ghastly 
day  of  his  life.  It  did  not  alter  the  essential  fact 
that  everything  had  gone  to  pieces — nothing  could 
alter  that — but  it  made  matters  less  complicated 
so  far  as  Lalage's  immediate  future  was  concerned. 
He  had  intended  asking  his  brother-in-law  for  a 
loan,  and  it  was  a  load  off  his  mind  to  find  that 
Joseph  was  actually  in  town.  A  letter  might, 
probably  would,  have  fallen  into  Ida's  hands,  and 
this  was  one  of  those  cases  where  an  interview 
was  better  than  many  pages  of  explanations. 

In  reply  to  the  telegram,  Jimmy  wired  that  he 
would  be  at  the  hotel  at  nine  o'clock.  He  had 
given  up  all  idea  of  going  to  the  office  that  night, 
or,  rather,  of  ever  going  there  again.  He  must 
get  away,  at  once,  from  everything  which  might 
remind  him  of  the  old  life.  He  must  cut  himself 
adrift  from  it,  immediately,  altogether,  if  he 
wished  to  preserve  his  sanity.  For  himself,  he 
cared  nothing,  at  least  at  the  moment;  but,  though 
he  might  never  see  her  again  once  she  had  left 
London,  he  had  to  provide  for  Lalage.  The 

195 


196  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

Grierson  strain  in  him  had  asserted  itself  in  so  far 
as  it  had  made  him  determine  to  leave  Lalage. 
He  was  able  now  to  see  her  sin  and  his  own,  espe- 
cially hers;  but  still  he  could  not  abandon  her  to 
her  fate,  as  a  true  Grierson  would  have  done,  be- 
cause he  had  been  passionately  in  love,  whilst  the 
love  of  the  true  Grierson  is  always  decorous,  and 
truly  tempered  by  financial  considerations.  The 
dowerless  bride  is  regarded  with  coldness;  the 
bride  with  a  past  is  anathema;  there  is  no  road 
back,  at  least  in  the  opinion  of  those  who  have  sub- 
edited their  religion  in  the  interests  of  propriety. 

Jimmy  had  no  difficulty  in  finding  a  substitute 
to  take  on  his  work  at  the  Record  office,  especially 
when  he  made  it  known  that  there  was  going  to 
be  a  vacancy  on  the  staff  immediately. 

'"I'm  a  bit  knocked  out,"  he  explained.  "The 
malaria  has  got  hold  of  me  again,  and  the  doctor 
says  I  must  go  out  at  once." 

The  other  man  nodded  sympathetically,  and 
suggested  a  drink.  He,  himself,  had  been  out  of 
work  for  nearly  six  months,  and  the  chance  of 
securing  Jimmy's  berth  had  altered  the  whole  out- 
look for  him. 

"  Yes,  you  do  look  off  colour,"  he  said.  "  I've 
noticed  it  several  times  lately.  Night  work  doesn't 
suit  you,  I  suppose.  Now,  I'm  used  to  it,  been 
at  it  for  years.  Well,  I'll  give  Dodgson  this  note 


PEOPLE  OF    POSITION  197 

of  yours.  It'll  be  all  right.  He  knows  me  well 
enough.  So  long.  Thanks  very  much  for  think- 
ing of  me." 

Jimmy  turned  wearily,  and  went  down  the  cor- 
ridor to  the  dining-room.  He  had  eaten  nothing 
all  day,  and  it  struck  him  Lalage  would  be  worried 
if  she  knew. 

"  Bring  me  anything  you  like,"  he  said  to  the 
waiter,  but  when  the  plates  came  he  merely  took 
one  mouthful,  and  then  sat,  staring  with  unseeing 
eyes  at  a  paper  he  had  picked  up,  whilst  the  gravy 
grew  cold  and  greasy.  He  was  wondering  what 
Lalage  was  doing,  alone  in  that  little  hotel  near 
the  General  Post  Office. 

"  As  long  as  it's  quiet,  Jimmy,  that's  all  I  care 
about;  and  the  further  from  the  West  End  the 
better.  Noise  would  drive  me  quite  mad,  I  think," 
she  had  said. 

So  far,  he  had  not  tried  to  analyse  his  own  feel- 
ings toward  Lalage.  All  he  knew  was  that  he  was 
sounding  the  lowest  depths  of  misery,  and  he  spec- 
ulated, more  or  less  vaguely,  whether  she  could 
understand  what  he  was  suffering.  He  wanted  to 
blame  her,  in  fact  he  knew  that  he  ought  to  blame 
her,  that  she  had  betrayed  him  and  had  sinned 
beyond  all  hope  of  forgiveness;  and  yet  in  his 
ears  there  was  still  ringing  her  heart-broken  wail, 
"  I  did  it  all  for  you  Jimmy,  I  did  it  all  for  you." 


PEOPLE    OF    POSITION 

At  last  the  voice  of  the  waiter  broke  in  on  his 
thoughts,  "  You  don't  seem  to  like  that,  sir. 
Anything  I  can  get  for  you  instead?  " 

Jimmy  started.  "  No,  no.  It's  quite  all  right. 
I  don't  feel  hungry  now,  that's  the  only  trouble, 
thanks." 

The  waiter  was  a  kindly  man,  and  he  had  seen 
a  good  deal  of  life  during  nearly  thirty  years  of 
service  in  clubs;  consequently,  he  shook  his  head 
mournfully  as  Jimmy  went  out.  "  Mr.  Grierson's 
in  trouble,"  he  remarked  to  the  carver.  "He 
looks  fair  broken  up,  as  though  he  didn't  care 
what  came  next." 

The  carver,  who  had  no  imagination,  grunted. 
u  Got  the  sack,  I  suppose,"  he  said,  and  began  to 
dissect  a  chicken. 

The  waiter  shook  his  head  again.  "  That 
doesn't  make  a  man  pay  for  food  he's  not  going 
to  eat.  It's  a  woman  has  played  the  fool  with 
him.  I  shouldn't  be  surprised  if  we  don't  see  him 
here  again.  And  he's  a  nice  gentleman,  too,  al- 
ways polite  to  you  and  so  on." 

Jimmy  had  an  hour  and  a  half  to  kill  before 
going  to  Joseph  Fenton's  hotel,  and,  ordinarily, 
he  would  have  spent  the  time  reading  or  writing 
in  the  club ;  but  already  the  place  had  become  un- 
bearable to  him;  everything  in  it  seemed  to  speak 
to  him  of  Lalage,  to  remind  him  of  her  and  of 


PEOPLE   OF    POSITION  199 

that  past  which  had  suddenly  become  such  a  hor- 
rible memory.  Why,  it  was  Lalage  herself  who 
had  saved  up  the  two  guineas  to  pay  his  subscrip- 
tion, only  a  couple  of  months  ago.  He  went  hot 
at  the  thought  of  it,  for  it  brought  back  the  re- 
membrance of  so  many  other  things  she  had  done 
for  him.  For  a  moment  he  hesitated.  She  was 
calling  him  back  to  her  side.  "  It  was  all  for  you, 
Jimmy,  all  for  you."  That  part  of  it  was  true, 
whatever  else  had  been  false;  and  she  was  alone 
in  that  gloomy  little  hotel,  eating  her  heart  out, 
conscious  that  she  had  lost  him.  She  had  betrayed 
his  trust  because  she  loved  him  so  well,  because 
she  could  not  bear  to  part  with  him — for  a  few 
seconds  he  understood  that,  and  felt  he  could  for- 
give everything;  but  an  instant  later  he  was  a 
Grierson  again.  She  had  lied  to  him;  she  had 
been  false  to  him  in  the  greatest  of  all  things;  and 
there  could  be  no  forgiveness.  His  people  had 
found  her  out,  had  proved  to  him  what  she  really 
was,  and  he  could  not  give  them  up  for  her, 
knowing  that  she  understood  nothing  of  honour  or 
truth.  So,  instead  of  going  to  the  hotel  in  the 
City,  Jimmy  went  westwards,  slowly,  listlessly,  with 
no  aim  but  to  kill  time.  The  Strand  was  thronged 
with  its  night  population,  just  as  it  had  been  on 
the  first  evening  of  his  return;  but  now  he  looked 
on  everyone  with  suspicion,  almost  with  hatred. 


200  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

Any  of  these  men  might  know  his  secret,  might 
have  heard  of  him  from  Lalage  and  have  laughed 
at  him.  There  was  madness  in  the  thought,  and 
his  eyes  gleamed  so  suddenly  that  a  policeman 
in  plain  clothes,  having  noticed  him,  thought  it 
well  to  follow  him  for  a  while;  but  the  fit  passed 
almost  as  quickly  as  it  had  come  on,  and  he  became 
listless  again,  shuffling  his  feet  a  little  on  the 
pavement,  as  though  utterly  weary  and  dis- 
illusioned. 

The  women  caught  his  eye  now,  hard-faced, 
painted,  weirdly-dressed,  and  he  began  to  wonder 
how  they  could  possibly  attract  anyone,  and  to 
compare  them  with  Lalage.  She  had  never  looked 
like  that,  there  had  been  no  sort  of  kinship  be- 
tween her  and  these  creatures,  and  yet — she  had 
confessed  that  May's  charges  were  true. 

His  way  to  the  hotel  led  him  in  the  direction 
of  the  flat.  At  first,  he  was  inclined  to  avoid  the 
little  back  street,  for  fear  that  he  might  be  recog- 
nised and  pointed  at;  then  the  longing  to  have  one 
more  look  overcame  the  fear,  and  he  turned  up 
the  road  where  the  barrows  were,  past  the  ham 
and  beef  shop,  and  came  opposite  the  grimy  man- 
sion. It  seemed  but  natural  to  glance  upwards 
at  what  had  been  Lalage's  windows;  though  it 
gave  him  a  shock  to  see  that,  whilst  the  curtains 
had  been  torn  down,  leaving  a  broken  tape  hang- 


PEOPLE   OF    POSITION  201 

ing  forlornly,  there  was  a  light  in  the  rooms;  then 
he  noticed,  for  the  first  time,  that  there  was  a 
van  outside  the  front  entrance.  They  were  just 
finishing  the  task  of  clearing  out  the  flat. 

From  the  shelter  of  a  big  gateway  opposite, 
Jimmy  watched  them  bring  down  Lalage's  own 
chair  and  a  wash  hand  stand  which  he  himself 
had  made  for  her  out  of  an  old  packing  case  in 
those  early  days  before  London  had  taken  the  life 
out  of  him.  Then,  suddenly,  the  light  upstairs 
was  extinguished,  and  a  few  minutes  later  a  short, 
stout  man  in  a  seedy  frock  coat  and  decrepit  silk 
hat  came  down  the  steps,  and  ordered  the  van  to 
drive  away. 

"  That's  the  lot,"  he  said.  "  Now  get  back  to 
the  shop  quick.  These  things  may  have  to  go  out 
again  to-morrow.  Tell  Mr.  Gluck  to  have  them 
polished  up  first  thing  in  the  morning."  Then 
he  mopped  his  forehead  with  an  uncleanly  ban- 
dana handkerchief,  and  made  his  way  to  a  public- 
house  lower  down  the  street.  Jimmy  followed 
him  thither  with  no  definite  object,  save  perhaps 
a  kind  of  morbid  curiosity. 

The  publican  greeted  the  furniture  dealer  with 
a  friendly  nod.  "  Clearing  another  out,  Mr. 
Ludwig?" 

The  other  grunted  assent.  "  One  of  the  soft 
sort.  She  ran  away.  It  just  comes  in  right,  as  I 


202  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

have  another  customer  for  the  goods,  and  there 
was  a-  lot  paid  on  them.  Pretty  girl  she  was,  too," 
and  he  gave  a  leer  which  made  Jimmy  go  red 
first  and  then  very  white,  and  leave  hurriedly 
without  touching  the  whisky  he  had  ordered. 

Joseph  Fenton  was  waiting  for  his  brother-in- 
law  in  the  hall  of  his  hotel.  Jimmy,  scarcely 
knowing  what  sort  of  reception  to  expect,  had 
come  in  white-faced  and  hard-eyed,  but  the  elder 
man's  handshake  eased  his  mind  at  once. 

Fenton  led  the  way  into  the  smoking-room,  se- 
lected a  couple  of  chairs  in  the  further  corner, 
then  held  out  his  cigar  case.  "  Have  a  smoke?  " 
he  said. 

Jimmy  helped  himself,  and,  for  a  minute  or 
two,  they  smoked  in  silence;  then: 

"  This  is  a  bit  of  an  upset,  Jimmy,"  Joseph 
remarked;  getting  no  reply  beyond  a  curt  nod,  he 
went  on,  "  I'm  not  going  to  talk  to  you  about  the 
moral  side  of  it — I  expect  your  sisters  have  done 
that,  too  much  perhaps — but  what  is  this  girl 
going  to  do  now?  You  can't  let  her  starve." 

"  Ida  and  May  say  she  ought  to,"  Jimmy  an- 
swered grimly.  The  elder  man  made  a  gesture 
of  annoyance.  "  I  know.  Ida  told  me,  and  we 
disagreed."  He  paused  and  stared  at  the  smoke 
curling  upwards  from  his  cigar,  as  though  trying 
to  find  inspiration  in  it.  He  was  always  a  little 


PEOPLE  OF    POSITION  203 

slow  and  awkward  in  his  speech,  and  now  he 
seemed  worse  than  ever;  but  at  last  he  went  on: 
"  Look  here,  Jimmy,  I  went  through  much  the 
same  sort  of  thing  myself,  before  I  was  engaged 
to  your  sister,  so  I  understand.  You  see?  My 
people  found  out  and  sent  me  abroad ;  and  I  didn't 
hear  of  the  girl  again  until  it  was  too  late."  He 
sighed  heavily,  and  stared  once  more  at  the  cigar 
smoke. 

Jimmy  looked  up.  "What  had  happened?" 
he  asked. 

Joseph  started.  "  She  had  drowned  herself." 
He  spoke  very  quietly,  but  none  the  less  Jimmy 
realised  what  the  memory  meant  to  this  man 
whom  he  had  always  thought  a  little  dull  and 
prosaic.  "  When  I  let  them  ship  me  away — I  was 
only  a  youngster  at  the  time — I  thought  they 
would  help  her  to  get  a  fresh  start,  but  they  didn't. 
It's  spoilt  my  life,  and  that's  why  I  don't  want 
yours  spoilt.  At  least  give  her  the  chance  to  go 
right."  He  drew  a  packet  of  bank-notes  from 
his  pocket.  "  Here's  fifty  to  go  on  with.  Come 
to  me  when  you  want  some  more.  Only,  send  her 
right  away,  where  you  won't  be  tempted  to  go 
and  see  her.  You  must  drop  it  now.  There  can 
be  no  question  of  your  marrying  her;  and  there's 
only  misery  in  this  free  love,  as  you,  yourself,  have 


204  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

Jimmy  held  out  his  hand  gratefully.  "  It's  aw- 
fully good  of  you,  Joseph.  I  was  coming  to  you 
for  a  loan  when  I  got  your  wire.  She," — some- 
how he  could  not  bring  himself  to  mention 
Lalage's  name, — "  she  is  only  too  anxious  to  get 
away  'from  town,  and  this  money  will  make  it  pos- 
sible. I  suppose  in  time  she'll  get  something  to 
do;  but  there's  been  no  time  to  make  plans 
yet." 

"  Well,  let  me  know  when  you  want  some  more 
money.  Write  to  the  office,  not  to  the  house.  I 
only  wish  you  had  asked  me  before  this  happened. 
I've  been  pretty  successful,  at  least  in  business; 
but  that's  not  everything."  He  paused  and  then 
went  on,  in  short,  jerky  sentences.  "  Don't  marry 
a  saint,  Jimmy.  They're  better  to  watch  than  to 
live  with.  Your  sister  never  forgives  anything, 
and  that's  a  big  mistake.  It  makes  life  hard 
sometimes.  I  suppose  I'm  getting  a  bit  old,  and 
I  feel  things.  The  doctor  says  I  must  be  careful." 

Jimmy  glanced  at  him  keenly;  although  his  mind 
was  full  of  his  own  troubles,  it  had  struck  him 
that  Joseph  looked  far  from  well.  "  Is  there 
anything  special  the  matter?"  he  asked. 

Joseph  nodded.  "  Heart,"  he  answered  briefly. 
"  Well,  I'm  glad  I've  seen  you.  Don't  say  any- 
thing about  it  to  Ida.  I  think  I'll  go  lip  now,  I'm 
feeling  a  little  tired.  Good  night,  Jimmy.  Give 


PEOPLE  OF    POSITION  205 

her  a  chance  to  go  straight,  and  then  try  to 
forget  her." 

It  was  the  following  afternoon,  when  Jimmy 
got  back  to  the  club  after  having  seen  Lalage  off 
at  the  station,  that  he  found  a  note  from  May 
awaiting  him. 

"  You  will  be  shocked  to  hear,"  May  wrote, 
"  that  Joseph  was  discovered  dead  in  bed  this 
morning.  The  doctor  says  it  was  heart  disease. 
I  need  hardly  say  that  Ida  is  terribly  upset." 

Two  or  three  days  later,  Jimmy  learnt  that 
his  brother-in-law  had  left  him  a  thousand  pounds. 


CHAPTER   XXIII 

DR.  GREGG  pulled  up  his  trap  and  hailed  the 
man  who  was  stalking  along  on  the  other  side 
of  the  road. 

"  Are  you  going  my  way,  Grierson?  Can  I  give 
you  a  lift?  Right.  Whoa,  mare,  stand  still. 
It's  some  time  since  I  saw  you,  Grierson.  Been 
away?" 

Jimmy,  who  was  already  climbing  into  the  dog- 
cart, did  not  answer  until  the  question  was  re- 
peated, then,  "  Yes,"  he  said  rather  unwillingly. 
"  I've  been  over  to  Paris  for  two  or  three  days." 

T]he  doctor  drew  his  ragged-looking  grey  eye- 
brows down  until  they  formed  almost  a  straight 
line.  "  The  old  game,"  he  growled. 

The  young  man  was  staring  away  over  the  hedge 
at  the  sweep  of  country  beyond,  and  replied  with- 
out looking  round.  '  Yes,  as  you  say,  the  old 
game — the  inevitable  game,  if  you  like  that  better. 
The  only  difference  being  that  it  was  liqueur 
brandy  this  time  instead  of  whisky." 

"  Silly  fool."  The  doctor  was  not  noted  for 
his  gentle  speech.  "  Silly  fool,  you  know  what  I 
told  you,  that  it  means  death  in  your  case,  with 

206 


PEOPLE   OF  POSITION  207 

perhaps  a  spell  of  lunacy  first — that  is,  if  you're 
not  really  a  lunatic  already.  You  had  better  get 
some  other  medical  man  to  attend  you  next  time." 
He  slashed  at  an  overhanging  bough  with  his 
frayed  old  whip,  and  apparently  the  action  re- 
lieved him,  for  he  went  on  in  a  very  different 
voice,  "How's  the  book  getting  on?  Is  it  pub- 
lished yet?" 

"  It's  coming  out  next  week,"  Jimmy  answered. 
"  I  got  an  advance  copy  to-day.  They've  bound 
it  and  made  it  up  rather  nicely." 

The  doctor  nodded.  . "  So  they  ought  to.  It's 
good  stuff,  but  you  would  never  have  written  it 
at  all  if  it  hadn't  been  for  me."  The  thought 
seemed  to  bring  back  his  grievances,  for  he  went 
on  querulously,  "  Why  do  you  always  go  to  Paris 
or  Brussels  or  some  place  like  that?  Can't  you 
find  enough  bad  liquor  and  bad  company  in  Lon- 
don, at  far  less  cost?  " 

Jimmy  flushed.  "  Look  here,  Gregg,"  he  be- 
gan angrily,  then  broke  off  with  a  bitter  laugh. 
"  I  suppose  I've  no  right  to  take  offence  at  you, 
after  all.  I  never  go  to  London,  haven't  been 
there  for  a  year,  I  loathe  the  place." 

"Bad  memories,  eh?"  The  doctor  jerked  the 
words  out  as  he  guided  his  horse  past  a  big  dray. 

"  Bad  memories,"  Jimmy  assented  wearily. 
"  The  worst  of  bad  memories." 


208  PEOPLE   OF    POSITION 

"  That's  the  advantage  of  being  a  medical 
man."  They  had  just  passed  the  dray  and  were 
coming  to  the  outskirts  of  the  little  country  town. 
"  We  understand  what  it  means,  you  see,  and 
when  a  woman  lets  us  down,  we  don't  make  it 
worse,  as  you  are  doing.  Oh,  I  know  you  didn't 
say  anything  about  a  woman,  but  I  know,  too, 
that  you  meant  one.  It's  a  poor  compliment  to  her 
if  she's  any  good,  and  if  she  isn't,  why  worry?" 

Jimmy  did  not  answer,  and  the  doctor  changed 
the  subject  abruptly,  as  was  his  way.  "  Did  they 
tell  you  that  Drylands,  the  big  house  close  to 
your  cottage,  was  let  at  last?  You'll  have  some 
society  now.  I  hear  they're  people  who  entertain 
a  lot." 

"What  is  their  name?"  Jimmy  demanded. 

"  Something  not  unlike  your  own — Grimston, 
I  think." 

Jimmy  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  Never  heard 
of  them,  and,  anyway,  it  probably  wouldn't  affect 
me.  The  neighbourhood  as  a  whole  hasn't  exactly 
tumbled  over  itself  in  its  anxiety  to  make  my  ac- 
quaintance." 

"  That's  your  own  fault,"  the  doctor  retorted. 
"  You  haven't  given  the  neighbourhood  much  en- 
couragement to  know  you,  although  you  would 
be  welcome  enough.  You're  a  surly  brute  in  many 
ways,  Grierson." 

"  Thanks,"  Jimmy  answered  with  a  hard  laugh. 


PEOPLE   OF    POSITION  209 

"  At  least  you're  outspoken.  And  now  this  is  my 
destination,  the  news  agent's  shop.  I'll  try  to 
follow  your  professional  advice — for  as  long  as  I 
can." 

The  doctor  grunted  something  unintelligible 
and  drove  on.  It  was  market  day,  and  there  were 
several  farmers  he  wanted  to  interview  before  the 
excitement,  or  the  local  ale,  or  a  combination  of 
both,  rendered  their  ideas  a  little  more  vague  than 
at  ordinary  times. 


It  was  a  year  since  Jimmy  had  taken  the  cottage 
a  mile  outside  the  sleepy  little  town.  He  had 
gone  there  in  the  first  place  because  it  was  far 
removed  from  everyone  and  everything  he  knew, 
and  in  some  ways  the  experiment  had  proved  a 
success.  The  deaf  old  woman  who  came  in  to 
do  his  cooking  and  housework  worried  him  little, 
and  apparently  did  not  gossip  about  his  actions 
or  his  habits;  whilst  the  three  rooms  he  had  fur- 
nished were  more  than  sufficient  for  his  needs. 

At  first,  on  hearing  of  Joseph  Fenton's  legacy, 
he  had  thought  of  going  abroad  again,  of  seeking 
oblivion  of  the  past  few  months  in  travel  and  ex- 
citement; but  a  chance  remark  of  May's  spoken 
at  Joseph  Fenton's  funeral,  the  only  occasion  on 
which  he  had  met  any  of  the  Griersons  since  the 
interview  at  Walter's  office,  had  shown  him  that 


210  PEOPLE   OF    POSITION 

the  family  would  welcome  his  departure,  that  it 
even  regarded  voluntary  exile  as  the  proper  course 
for  him  to  take  under  the  circumstances,  and, 
if  only  for  that  reason,  he  determined  to  stay. 
Probably  he  would  have  stayed  in  any  case,  for, 
though  he  had  cut  himself  adrift  from  Lalage, 
had  never  seen  her  since  she  left  London,  and 
heard  from  her  but  seldom — brief,  gentle  little 
notes  which  invariably  made  him  break  his  prom- 
ise to  her — all  the  old  wild  jealousy  remained. 
It  was  torture  whilst  he  was  in  England,  but  he 
felt  it  would  mean  madness  if  there  were  the  ocean 
between  them.  His  love  for  her  was  dead,  or  at 
least  he  told  himself  so,  that  part  of  love  which 
comes  from  the  joy  of  possession,  which  brings 
with  -it  peace  and  courage,  and  a  good  comrade 
in  the  never-ending  struggle  against  fate;  but  the 
other  part,  the  fear  and  the  hopelessness  and  the 
fever,  remained  with  him  always. 

Once,  and  once  only,  he  had  had  Lalage 
watched.  He  had  lain  awake  night  after  night 
until  his  jealousy  had  culminated  in  his  sending 
down  a  private  detective.  He  had  read  the  re- 
port— which  was  wholly  in  her  favour,  even  the 
church  working  party  of  the  village  in  which  she 
was  living  being  unable  to  rake  up  any  charge 
against  her — with  an  unutterable  sense  of  shame 
and  self-contempt,  and  then  had  thrust  it  hur- 


PEOPLE   OF    POSITION  211 

ricdly  into  the  fire;  but  instead  of  bringing  him 
peace  it  gave  him  another  memory  to  brood  over, 
and  at  times  to  try  and  drown. 

Lalage's  fears  had  only  been  too  well  founded. 
The  locality  was  healthy  enough,  the  doctor  had 
said  with  almost  brutal  frankness  the  first  time 
Jimmy  had  occasion  to  consult  him;  and  then  he 
had  gone  on  to  diagnose  his  patient's  case  with- 
out mincing  his  words. 

"  You  don't  show  it  outwardly,  at  least  not  to 
a  layman,  but  any  medical  man  would  see  what 
was  the  matter  with  you.  What  makes  you 
drink?" 

Jimmy  had  shrugged  his  shoulders,  half- 
ashamed,  half-irritated.  "  Habit,  I  suppose,"  he 
had  answered,  whereupon  the  other  had  growled. 

"  A  confoundedly  bad  and  stupid  habit.  The 
sooner  you  get  some  new  ones  the  better.  You 
write,  don't  you?  How  do  you  expect  to  make  a 
success  of  it  when  you're  sapping  your  brain  power 
in  this  fool's  way?  " 

He  had  added  a  few  more  things,  pointed  and 
true,  but  none  the  less  they  had  parted  good 
friends,  and  for  a  time  Jimmy  tried  to  fight  his 
enemy,  remembering  his  promise  to  Lalage;  but 
it  was  always  the  same  in  the  end.  His  black  hour 
would  come  on  him,  and  he  would  recall  his  great 
treason,  and  tell  himself  bitterly  that  she  had  been 


212  PEOPLE   OF    POSITION 

the  first  to  set  the  example  in  the  matter  of  broken 
faith. 

Whatever  fears  May  might  have  had  on  the 
point — and  the  matter  certainly  had  worried  her 
a  good  deal  during  the  last  twelve  months — there 
had  never  been  any  question  of  Jimmy  going 
back  to  Lalage.  True,  he  had  broken  away  from 
the  Grierson  tradition  when  he  went  to  live  at 
the  flat,  had  thrown  that  tradition  to  the  winds, 
but  still  he  had  never  repudiated  it  openly,  and 
in  the  end  if  he  had  not  actually  gone  back  to  his 
own  people,  at  least  he  had  recognised  that  the 
standards  of  his  own  people  were  right.  He  was 
ashamed  of  himself,  even  more  ashamed  of 
Lalage.  He  saw  his  conduct — and  hers — in  its 
true  light,  its  stupidity,  and  its  immorality,  and 
in  the  days  following  Joseph  Fenton's  death  he 
had  reached  the  nadir  of  contrition  and  misery, 
and  would  have  made  confession,  and  sought  for 
absolution,  had  the  family  given  him  the  chance. 
He  was  in  the  mood  for  it,  being  run-down  and 
broken-hearted.  But  Joseph's  death  had  altered 
the  focus  of  things  for  the  moment,  making 
Jimmy's  affairs  a  secondary  consideration,  and 
after  the  reading  of  the  will,  Joseph's  legacy  had 
effectually  destroyed  any  hope  of  peace,  at  least 
as  far  as  Ida  was  concerned.  Fenton  had  left,  it 
is  true,  nearly  a  hundred  thousand  to  his  wife,  but 


PEOPLE  OF    POSITION  213 

the  odd  thousand  to  Jimmy  almost  neutralised 
the  generosity  of  his  other  bequests,  at  least  in 
Ida's  sight,  and  Ida's  personality  dominated  the 
whole  family  for  the  time  being. 

Curiously  enough,  no  one  knew  of  Jimmy's 
last  meeting  with  Joseph.  At  first  Jimmy  had 
held  his  peace  about  it,  not  wishing  in  any  way  to 
add  to  Ida's  troubles;  then,  when  he  found  that 
his  own  misdeeds  were  supposed  to  have  preyed 
on  his  brother-in-law's  mind  and  hastened  his 
death,  he  continued  to  keep  silence,  in  a  kind  of 
savage  contempt.  He,  at  least,  knew  what  Joseph's 
feelings  had  been,  and  all  his  sympathy  and  all 
his  regrets  were  for  the  dead  man,  and  not  for 
the  saint,  who,  after  the  manner  of  her  kind, 
had  understood  nothing  and  forgiven  nothing. 

Yet,  none  the  less,  he  would  gladly  have  made 
peace  with  the  family,  just  as  May  and  Walter 
would  have  made  peace  with  him,  had  Ida's  bit- 
terness not  rendered  that  so  hard  as  to  be  almost 
impossible.  She  was  too  good  a  woman  to  over- 
look his  sin,  or  to  allow  anyone  else  to  overlook  it. 
She  believed  in  the  punishment  of  the  sinner,  not 
in  his  pardon,  and  she  did  not  think  that  Jimmy 
had  suffered  enough ;  possibly  she  believed  that  he 
had  not  suffered  at  all,  for  had  he  not  in  the  end 
received  a  thousand  pounds  which  should,  by 
rights,  have  gone  to  her  own  children?  So, 


2i4  PEOPLE   OF    POSITION 

though  he  had  repudiated  Lalage  to  pacify  his 
people,  and — it  must  be  admitted  also — to  sat- 
isfy his  own  conscience,  his  only  reward  had  been 
a  ghastly  sense  of  isolation,  both  from  his  own 
world,  where  the  Grierson  tradition  rules,  and 
from  that  other  world  into  which  he  had  strayed 
for  a  few  short  never-to-be-forgotten  months. 

Jimmy  had  turned  a  little  grey  during  the  last 
year,  and  the  boyish  charm  had  gone  out  of  his 
face.  Alas!  he  had  grown  careless  as  regarded 
his  appearance,  and  he  had  ceased  to  trouble 
about  a  number  of  little  things  on  the  observance 
of  which  Lalage  had  once  insisted.  He  never 
worried  as  to  whether  his  boots  were  cleaned  or 
no,  and  he  only  shaved  when  he  was  going  into  the 
little  town.  After  all,  what  did  it  matter?  He 
had  no  friends,  and  he  wanted  none;  society,  or 
at  any  rate  women's  society,  had  ceased  to  be  a 
factor  in  his  life. 

On  the  other  hand,  success  had  come  to  him 
professionally,  though  it  meant  very  little  to  him, 
or  very  little  compared  with  what  it  would  have 
meant  in  the  London  days,  when  half  the  income 
he  was  making  now  would  have  seemed  wealth. 
Joseph's  legacy  had  allowed  him  breathing  space. 
He  had  quitted  Fleet  Street  finally,  abandoned  all 
thought  of  journalism,  and  gone  in  for  the  writ- 
ing of  short  stories.  Some  quality  in  the  latter, 


PEOPLE   OF    POSITION  215 

possibly  the  cynical  outlook  on  life  which  coloured 
them  all,  caught  the  fancy  of  editors  accustomed 
to  the  milk-and-water  optimism  of  the  average 
writer,  and  in  a  few  months  his  work  was  not  only 
selling,  but  was  actually  in  demand.  Moreover, 
he  had  written  a  novel,  and,  his  luck  still  holding 
good,  had  placed  it  with  the  second  publisher  to 
whom  he  offered  it;  but  even  that  success  had 
given  him  no  sense  of  elation;  and,  when  he  had 
come  to  read  the  proofs,  he  had  found  himself 
wishing  that  he  had  put  the  manuscript  into  the 
fire.  It  was  not  the  book  he  had  dreamed  of 
doing,  the  book  he  had  so  often  discussed  with 
Lalage.  The  doctor,  who  had  also  seen  the 
proofs,  thought  highly  of  it;  the  publisher  was 
urging  him  to  get  on  with  another;  but  he,  him- 
self, knew  well  that  the  book  lacked  something. 
He  had  been  afraid  to  give  it  life  by  drawing  on 
his  own  experience.  He  had  been  so  anxious  not 
to  widen  the  breach  with  his  family  that  he  had 
ended  by  writing  a  novel  for  Griersons.  As  Jimmy 
walked  homewards  after  his  meeting  with  the  doc- 
tor, he  found  himself  wondering  what  Lalage 
would  think  of  his  novel,  whether  she  would  feel 
pride,  or  grief,  or  contempt.  Somehow,  although 
she  had  no  part  in  his  life  now,  he  was  more  afraid 
of  her  judgment  than  of  that  of  anyone  else. 
"  Lalage's  author,"  she  had  called  him  in  the  old 


216  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

days,  and  she  had  always  believed  in  him.  "  I 
know  you  will  write  nice  books  for  Lalage,  by  and 
by;  because  you're  very,  very  clever" — she  had 
said  so  more  than  once,  when  he  had  seemed  to  be 
losing  heart  over  his  work  in  the  Record  office. 
And  now  he  had  written  the  book — in  which 
Lalage  had  had  no  part.  Unconsciously,  he  quick- 
ened his  pace,  as  if  to  get  away  from  the  thought, 
and,  perhaps  for  that  reason,  he  did  not  notice  a 
motor-car  which  was  coming  up  behind  him. 
When  the  horn  was  sounded,  he  merely  drew  into 
the  hedge  and  did  not  look  round.  The  car 
passed  him,  slowly  on  account  of  a  flock  of  sheep 
which  was  coming  out  of  a  gate  a  little  way 
ahead,  and  he  noted,  without  the  slightest  sense 
of  interest,  that  there  were  a  couple  of  well-dressed 
women  in  the  tonneau ;  consequently,  he  was  greatly 
surprised  when  one  of  the  women  called  to  the 
driver  to  stop,  then  looked  back,  and  beckoned 
excitedly  to  himself. 

"Mr.  Grierson,  Mr.  Grierson — Jimmy!"  she 
cried. 

As  he  came  up,  she  raised  the  heavy  veil  she 
was  wearing,  and  he  found  himself  looking  into 
the  laughing  eyes  of  Ethel  Grimmer. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

TV/T  RS.  GRIMMER  shook  hands  very  cor- 
•*••*"  dially.  "This  is  an  unexpected  pleasure," 
she  said.  "  Who  would  have  dreamt  of  seeing  you 
down  here ! "  then,  without  waiting  for  his  expla- 
nation, she  turned  to  her  companion.  "  Vera,  you 
remember  Mr.  Grierson,  don't  you?  May  Mar- 
low's  brother.  Jimmy,  I  hope  you  haven't  been 
so  rude  as  to  forget  Miss  Farlow.  You  met  her 
at  our  house,  on  that  one  visit  you  paid  us,  before 
you  suddenly  went  away  and  lost  yourself." 

Jimmy  flushed,  and  raised  his  hat  again.  He 
remembered  the  pretty,  rather  prim-looking  girl 
as  the  daughter  of  May's  favourite  rector,  and  he 
remembered,  too,  Ethel's  outspoken  advice  about 
his  possible  matrimonial  plans. 

Vera  Farlow  bowed,  a  little  severely,  but  Ethel 
Grimmer  gave  neither  of  the  others  the  chance  to 
speak.  "  I've  often  asked  May  how  you  were 
getting  on,  but  she  always  seemed  vague  as  to 
where  you  were.  She  said  you  were  living  in  the 
country  in  cottages,  so  as  to  be  able  to  work 
quietly;  but  I  never,  never  thought  of  finding  you 
down  here.  Do  you  live  in  a  cottage  now;  or 

217 


218  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

have  you  made  so  much  money  out  of  those  nice, 
wicked  stories  of  yours  that  you've  bought  a  big 
house?  " 

Jimmy  laughed.  "  No,  I've  still  got  a  cottage, 
the  only  cottage  I  ever  had.  It's  about  half  a  mile 
from  here." 

"  How  jolly!  Do  jump  in  now  and  come  along 
with  us.  Then  you  shall  tell  us  all  about  the  place 
and  its  people.  We've  just  taken  a  furnished 
house — Drylands,  I  suppose  you  know  it? — to  see 
if  we  like  the  neighbourhood.  If  we  "do,  Billy 
wants  to  build  a  nice  place  for  ourselves.  He's 
going  to  retire  from  business  at  the  end  of  the 
year.  I  tell  him  it's  better,  for  he  can  afford  to, 
and  if  he  stays  in  the  City,  he'll  only  get  stodgy, 
and  perhaps  lose  his  money.  And  now  do  come 
up  and  have  some  tea  with  us,  unless  you're  very 
busy,  which  I  can't  understand  you  being.  Billy 
won't  be  down  till  Saturday,  and  I  persuaded  Vera 
to  come  with  me,  so  that  I  shouldn't  be  too  dull." 

Jimmy  went  with  them  willingly,  and,  even  if  he 
had  wished  to  raise  an  objection,  Ethel  Grimmer 
would  have  given  him  no  hearing.  She  was  ob- 
viously delighted  at  the  meeting;  and,  in  the  end, 
Jimmy  stayed,  not  only  to  tea,  but  to  dinner  as 
well. 

"  Never  mind  about  dressing,"  Ethel  said. 
"  Vera  and  I  won't  change  anyway — you  see  we 


PEOPLE   OF    POSITION  219 

only  got  down  this  morning — and  it's  so  nice  to 
meet  someone  one  knows." 

It  was  the  first  time  since  he  had  left  town  that 
Jimmy  had  mixed  socially  with  his  own  world, 
and  he  watched  anxiously  for  anything  which 
would  show  whether  Ethel  knew  about  Lalage; 
but  before  dinner  was  over  he  realised,  with  a 
sense  of  relief,  amounting  almost  to  gratitude, 
that  May  and  Ida  had  kept  the  knowledge  of  the 
scandal  to  the  circle  of  the  family.  Ethel  was 
not  even  curious  as  to  his  reasons  for  avoiding  the 
Marlow  house ;  detesting  May  cordially,  she  found 
it  quite  natural  that  Jimmy  should  prefer  to  go 
his  own  way. 

Vera  Farlow  thawed  considerably  before  the 
evening  was  over.  She  was  a  well-read  girl,  and 
at  home  it  was  but  seldom  that  she  met  any  men 
who  had  interests  outside  their  business  or  their 
sports.  Jimmy  was  an  entirely  new  type  to  her, 
and  yet,  as  she  was  well  aware,  he  belonged  to  a 
family  whose  standing  was  above  question.  Had 
a  man  of  whom  she  knew  nothing  talked  as  Jimmy 
talked,  she  would  probably  have  regarded  him 
with  a  certain  degree  of  suspicion;  but  there  was 
no  question  of  that  in  the  case  of  Mrs.  Marlow's 
brother.  Jimmy,  on  his  part,  was  distinctly  at- 
tracted— Ethel  saw  that  long  before  he  got  up 
to  take  a  reluctant  farewell;  and  being  entirely 


220  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

loyal  to  her  own  husband,  she  felt  not  the  slightest 
jealousy  of  Vera  Farlow;  in  fact,  as  she  went  up- 
stairs that  evening  she  was  wondering  whether  it 
might  not  be  possible  to  turn  the  scheme,  which 
she  had  once  propounded  more  or  less  in  a  spirit 
of  banter,  into  an  accomplished  fact.  It  would  be 
a  good  thing  for  Jimmy,  a  good  thing  for  Vera, 
and,  perhaps  most  important  of  all,  it  would  annoy 
May  Marlow  and  Mrs.  Fenton  intensely.  Ethel 
went  to  bed  to  dream  of  a  gorgeous  wedding,  in 
which  she  played  the  part  of  fairy  godmother; 
and  she  awoke  next  morning  more  than  ever  de- 
termined to  arrange  the  match.  Vera  had  money, 
Jimmy  had  brains,  and  they  both  belonged  to  fam- 
ilies of  position.  She  felt  she  almost  owed  it  to 
Jimmy  to  find  him  a  wife,  whilst  Vera  was  her 
dearest  girl  friend.  Billy  would  help,  she  knew 
that.  Billy  always  did  what  she  told  him,  and 
though  he  sometimes  spoiled  things  by  laughing  at 
the  wrong  time,  for  which  she  scolded  him  duly 
and  without  mercy,  she  knew  he  meant  to  do  his 
best.  His  impending  retirement  had  been  one  of 
her  greatest  triumphs.  She  was  sick  to  death  of 
the  circle  of  City  people,  of  what  she  flippantly 
called  "  Square  milers,"  and  that  had  been  the 
main  reason  she  had  given  to  her  husband  in  urg- 
ing him  to  give  up  business  and  go  into  the 
country. 


PEOPLE   OF    POSITION  221 

"  Let's  go  amongst  people  who  don't  have  to 
catch  trains,  Billy,"  she  had  urged.  "  I'm  sure 
you  don't  get  half  enough  enjoyment  out  of  life 
now,  going  up  to  town  every  day,"  and  Billy  had 
finally  given  way,  on  those  grounds,  never  sus- 
pecting that  at  the  back  of  her  mind  was  always 
the  fear  of  his  being  drawn  into  speculation  and 
coming  to  grief.  He  was  not  very  brilliant.  Ethel 
knew  that  well,  and  she  knew,  too,  what  measure 
of  sympathy  the  City  has  for  those  who  fail. 

The  night  he  dined  at  Drylands,  Jimmy  barely 
thought  of  Lalage.  He  was  excited,  and  yet,  at 
the  same  time,  conscious  of  a  feeling  of  restful- 
ness,  somewhat  akin  to  that  he  had  experienced 
when  he  first  saw  the  shores  of  England  on  his 
return  from  South  America.  Once  again,  it 
seemed  as  if  he  had  been  a  long  time  in  the  wil- 
derness, and  was  getting  back  to  his  own  people 
at  last.  Vera  Farlow  was  of  those  who  stand 
above  suspicion.  It  was  impossible  to  picture  her 
knowing  anything  about  life  in  a  flat;  and,  whilst 
the  memory  of  the  past  gave  him  a  momentary 
sense  of  shame,  this  was  quickly  put  aside.  It 
was  all  dead,  done  with;  and,  if  any  women  had 
a  part  in  his  future,  they  would  be  those  like  Vera 
Farlow,  women  whom  the  Grierson  family  would 
accept  and  respect. 

When  he  turned  in,  Jimmy  helped  himself  to 


222  PEOPLE   OF    POSITION 

one  whisky,  and  one  only,  instead  of  the  usual 
three  or  four,  or  even  more,  which  he  took  when 
a  fit  of  sleeplessness  was  on  him.  After  all,  old 
Dr.  Gregg  had  been  right.  He  was  playing  a 
fool's  game.  He  awoke  in  the  morning  feeling 
much  fresher  than  usual,  and  fully  determined  to 
call  at  Drylands  on  some  excuse  or  other.  As  a 
rule,  he  was  not  down  till  after  the  postman  had 
called;  but  on  this  occasion  he  met  that  worthy 
at  the  front  door. 

"  Fine  morning,  sir.  Three  for  you  to-day," 
the  official  said. 

Jimmy  took  the  letters  and  glanced  at  the  ad- 
dresses. One  he  crumpled  up  and  tossed  unopened 
into  the  waste  paper  basket,  recognising  the  en- 
velope of  a  press-cutting  bureau,  which  circular- 
ised him  regularly  once  a  fortnight;  but  he  looked 
at  the  others  with  a  frown,  for  though  the  first 
was  from  Kelly,  whose  letters  were  always  wel- 
come, the  remaining  one  had  been  addressed  to 
his  club  in  Lalage's  unmistakable  handwriting. 

For  a  moment,  Jimmy  handled  the  letters  with 
an  air  of  hesitation;  then,  as  though  he  feared 
some  shock,  and  wanted  to  brace  himself  up  to 
meet  it,  he  went  to  the  decanter  and  poured  out 
some  whisky,  which  he  swallowed  neat;  yet,  even 
then,  he  opened  Kelly's  letter  first.  There  proved 
to  be  nothing  special  in  it — congratulations  on  his 


PEOPLE   OF    POSITION  223 

book,  some  caustic  comments  on  Fleet  Street  and 
its  ways,  and  the  always-repeated  invitation  to 
come  to  town,  and  stay  with  Kelly  and  his  wife. 

"  My  wife  says  she  feels  sure  you  must  be  in 
love  with  someone  down  there,  otherwise  you 
could  never  stand  the  dulness  of  the  country  after 
town;  but  I  always  say  that  your  fate  is  to  marry 
into  a  solid  City  family,  now  that  you  have  missed 
going  to  the  other  extreme." 

Jimmy  frowned  as  he  read  the  last  sentence. 
He  had  never  given  Kelly  a  hint,  and  no  one  else 
could  have  told  him.  Possibly,  it  was  the  thought 
of  that  which  worried  him,  and  made  him  turn 
to  the  decanter  again ;  at  any  rate,  he  had  another 
whisky  before  he  opened  Lalage's  letter.  It  had 
been  very  different  in  the  early  days  of  their  ac- 
quaintance; then,  he  had  torn  the  envelopes  open 
eagerly,  and  almost  learnt  the  contents  by  heart  be- 
fore he  thought  of  his  other  correspondence. 

Jimmy  had  never  given  Lalage  his  address. 
All  her  letters  went  to  the  club,  whilst  those  he 
wrote  to  her  he  sent  on  under  cover  to  one  of  the 
waiters,  who  posted  them  in  town.  He,  himself, 
never  understood  his  own  reasons  for  this  caution. 
It  was  not  because  he  feared  her  blackmailing 
him — even  in  his  most  bitter  moments1  he  had 
never  thought  of  that;  and  he  knew  her  too  well 
to  be  afraid  she  might  pay  him  a  visit  unasked 


224  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

in  the  hope  of  recapturing  his  affection;  but  prob- 
ably it  was  due  to  some  vague  feeling  that  it  kept 
them  further  apart  in  spirit,  helped  to  preserve  the 
barrier  between  them.  Not  that  she  had  ever  at- 
tempted to  break  that  barrier  down.  On  the 
other  hand,  she  seemed  to  have  accepted  his  de- 
cision as  right,  or  at  any  rate  as  unalterable,  and 
at  times  that  was  the  most  horrible  part  of  all  to 
him,  for  it  suggested  the  possibility  of  someone 
succeeding  him  in  her  love,  and,  as  she  had  long 
since  declined  to  take  any  more  money  from  him, 
he  had  no  right  to  control  her. 

Lalage  wrote  from  a  little  Yorkshire  town, 
nearly  two  hundred  miles  distant  from  Jimmy. 
"  You  know  I  told  you  I  had  a  post  as  nurse- 
companion  to  an  old  invalid  lady.  I  am  very 
grieved  to  say  she  died  about  three  weeks  ago. 
She  was  the  sweetest,  best  woman  I  ever  met;  she 
took  me  without  references,  because  she  said  she 
liked  my  face;  and  I  really  believe  her  greatest 
sorrow  at  dying  was  due  to  the  thought  that  she 
could  leave  me  nothing.  All  she  had  was  a  small 
annuity.  Yet,  in  another  way,  I  was  fortunate; 
for  almost  at  once  I  got  a  situation  in  a  draper's 
shop,  the  only  draper's  here.  It  is  not  very  much 
to  boast  of,  I  know;  but  still  I  am  making  my  own 
living  honestly,  and  it  is  the  sort  of  place  where 
one  can  stay  all  one's  life.  I  am  looking  at  the 


PEOPLE  OF    POSITION  225 

papers  every  day  to  see  if  your  book  is  out.  I  do 
wish  you  the  best  of  success  with  it,  Jimmy,"  and 
then,  without  any  conventional  phrase  before  it, 
came  the  simple  signature,  "  Lalage." 

Jimmy  did  not  touch  his  breakfast  that  morn- 
ing. Instead,  he  sat  very  still,  staring  out  of  the 
window,  trying  to  picture  Lalage — who  had  once 
been  his  Lalage — serving  behind  the  counter  in 
a  stuffy  little  draper's  shop.  "  The  sort  of  place 
where  you  can  stay  all  your  life."  Would  she, 
could  she,  stand  the  idea  of  such  a  future? 
Would  she  go  on  alone  always,  whilst  he  would 
be  getting  on  in  the  world,  climbing  the  ladder 
to  such  fame  as  novelists  get  in  these  days  of  many 
novels,  getting  back  into  his  own  world,  and  pos- 
sibly  ? 

There  was  a  knock  at  the  front  door,  and  as  if 
in  confirmation  of  his  thought,  he  found  the  Grim- 
mer chauffeur  standing  on  the  step. 

"  Note  for  you,  sir,"  he  said. 

Jimmy  tore  it  open.  "  Vera  and  I  are  going 
for  a  run  round  the  country,"  Ethel  wrote.  "  Will 
you  come  with  us  ?  " 

Jimmy  turned  round  to  the  hat  rack  and  took 
down  his  cap  and  overcoat. 

"Have  you  brought  the  car  down  for  me?" 
he  asked. 


CHAPTER  XXV 

R.  GRIMMER  looked  up  with  a  grin.  "  I 
don't  know  what  the  old  joker  will  say  if 
you  bring  your  scheme  to  a  head,"  he  remarked. 

Ethel,  who  was  standing  in  front  of  the  fire- 
place, smoking  daintily,  tried  hard  to  look  shocked. 

"  My  dear  Billy,"  she  drawled.  "  That  is 
hardly  the  way  to  speak  of  an  Honorary  Canon 
who  expects  to  become  a  bishop,  if  his  father-in- 
law  lives  long  enough  to  get  into  another  Cabi- 
net. Then,  for  one  thing,  Jimmy  won't  propose 
for  some  time  yet,  not  until  Vera  has  been  away 
and  come  back  again;  and  when  they  are  engaged 
what  can  the  old  joker,  as  you  call  him,  do  to 
me?" 

"  He  might  preach  about  you,"  her  husband 
suggested. 

Ethel  shrugged  her  shoulders.  "  I  shouldn't  be 
there  to  hear  him;  it  would  make  May  Marlow 
blush  and  send  that  hateful  Ida  Fenton  white  with 
passion.  By  the  way,  did  I  tell  you  that  Ida  had 
taken  a  house  in  town?  They  think  she's  going 
to  be  married  again,  to  that  horrid,  clean-shaven 
man  with  the  damp  hands,  who's  always  collect- 

226 


PEOPLE   OF    POSITION  227 

ing  for  some  mission  or  other.  You  must  know 
him,  Billy.  Surely  you  do;  we  used  to  call  him 
the  Additional  Curate.  Well,  to  go  back  to 
Jimmy.  He  wouldn't  give  Vera  up,  and  her 
money  is  under  her  own  control." 

"  He  had  to  give  you  up,"  Grimmer  said. 

His  wife  laughed.  "  He  never  had  me  to  give 
up,  really.  Besides,  I  hardly  knew  you  then, 
Billy,  so  it  didn't  count,  did  it?  ...  Billy,  you 
must  not  behave  in  that  ridiculous  way;  you  have 
crushed  my  flowers,  and  the  gong  will  go  in  a 
moment." 

It  was  a  fortnight  since  Jimmy  had  met  Ethel 
Grimmer  again,  and  during  that  time  he  had  not 
written  a  line.  Every  day,  and  often  twice  a 
day,  he  had  been  up  at  Drylands,  at  first,  because 
Ethel  had' insisted  on  his  attendance;  and  latterly, 
because  it  seemed  the  natural  thing  to  do.  His 
original  feeling  had  been  one  of  sincere  relief  at 
the  break  in  the  monotony  of  his  exile,  and  he 
had  been  equally  glad  to  see  both  Vera  and  Ethel ; 
but  after  a  while  Ethel  seemed  to  become  almost 
uninteresting  by  comparison  with  the  younger 
woman.  He  was  not  passionately  in  love,  as  he 
had  been  with  Lalage.  The  thought  of  Vera 
gave  him  no  sleepless  nights.  In  fact,  now  he 
slept  far  better  than  he  had  done  for  many  months 
past.  He  had  a  sense  of  restfulness  to  which  he 


228  PEOPLE   OF    POSITION 

had  long  been  a  stranger,  as  though  he  had  taken 
some  mental  opiate  to  soothe  the  pain  of  remem- 
brance. London,  and  the  flat,  and  the  grinding 
drudgery  of  Fleet  Street,  the  miserable  little  credi- 
tors worrying  at  the  door — all  these  seemed  now 
to  belong  to  some  former  existence,  to  be  part  of 
the  life  of  a  different  Jimmy  Grierson.  Vera  knew 
nothing  of  such  things;  and,  in  her  society,  he 
himself  managed  to  forget  them. 

Lalage's  letter  was  still  unanswered.  Day  after 
day  he  meant  to  write;  but,  somehow,  there  was 
never  time.  He  wanted  to  think  it  over  carefully, 
he  kept  on  telling  himself,  and  then  deliberately 
turned  his  mind  to  something  else. 

He  had  smartened  himself  up  considerably  so 
far  as  appearance  went.  True,  once  or  twice, 
it  gave  him  a  twinge  of  remorse  when  he  found 
that  he  was  doing  again  the  very  things  on  which 
Lalage  had  insisted  with  gentle  patience  in  those 
now-distant  days,  observing  little  conventions 
which  he  had  dropped  during  his  sojourn  abroad, 
and  had  lately  dropped  anew.  Then,  too,  he  was 
drinking  far  less.  He  did  not  need  the  spirit  now 
to  bring  him  oblivion,  and  he  did  want  to  keep 
his  hand  steady  and  his  eye  clear.  Vera  had  once 
spoken  very  strongly  on  the  subject  of  intemper- 
ance, which  she  knew  only  in  theory;  and  Jimmy 
had  listened  to  her  words  with  respectful  contri- 


PEOPLE  OF   POSITION  229 

tion.  She  would  never  forgive  a  man  who  drank, 
she  said,  and  he  had  gone  a  little  cold  at  the 
thought.  Yet,  forgetting  that  Lalage  had  known 
of  his  failing,  and  had  tried  to  help  him  fight  his 
demon,  he  told  himself  that  Vera's  was  the  right 
view  for  a  girl  of  her  position.  She  was  too  good 
and  pure  to  come  into  contact  with  the  ugly  things 
of  life. 

Already,  he  had  made  up  his  mind  to  ask  her 
to  marry  him,  later  on,  when  she  came  back  from 
a  promised  visit  of  indefinite  duration.  There  was 
no  hurry,  Ethel  had  told  him  so  frankly,  no  other 
suitor  being  in  the  running.  At  first,  the  thought 
of  the  past  troubled  him  a  little,  in  the  abstract, 
as  a  kind  of  treason  to  Vera;  but,  after  a  while, 
he  put  that  thought  aside.  She  need  never  know, 
and  Lalage  had  gone  out  of  his  life  now. 

His  book  had  been  published  a  week,  and  the 
one  or  two  reviews  which  had  appeared  had  been 
satisfactory,  almost  flattering,  though  one  re- 
viewer apparently  voiced  the  general  opinion  when 
he  said,  "  Mr.  Grierson  seems  anxious  to  uphold 
the  conventions  of  modern  society,  and  yet  he 
writes  of  them  without  conviction,  as  though  he 
would  like  to  believe  in  them,  and  could  not  man- 
age to  do  so." 

Vera  had  frowned  over  the  notice.  "What 
rubbish,  Mr.  Grierson.  It  is  as  much  as  to  say 


230  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

that  you  would  write  one  of  the  nasty  kind  of 
book,  if  you  dared.  I  think  yours  is  very,  very 
good  and  perfectly  sincere."  Whereupon  Jimmy 
had  gone  home  well  pleased,  feeling  that,  at  last, 
he  was  receiving  absolution,  if  not  from  his  own 
family,  at  least  from  his  own  people. 

When  Vera  went  back  to  town,  Ethel  deputed 
Jimmy  to  see  her  off  at  the  station,  alleging  that 
she  herself  had  a  headache. 

"  It's  only  an  revoir"  Jimmy  said,  as  he  shook 
hands  at  the  railway  carriage  door. 

Miss  Farlow  smiled  brightly.  "That's  all.  I 
am  coming  down  again  very  soon.  Father  is  go- 
ing away  for  a  mouple  of  months'  holiday;  and, 
as  he  is  taking  my  younger  sister,  Florence,  Ethel 
has  made  me  promise  to  come  down  here.  She 
is  awfully  good-hearted,  isn't  she?  " 

Jimmy  nodded  emphatically.  "  She  is  indeed. 
One  of  the  best  I  know." 

As  the  train  steamed  out  of  the  station,  he 
stood  a  full  minute  deep  in  thought,  staring  at  it 
until  it  disappeared  round  a  slight  curve;  then  he 
turned  to  find  the  doctor  watching  him  with  a  grim 
smile. 

"  Hullo,  Grierson,"  the  old  man  said.  "  I've 
hardly  seen  you  lately,  only  caught  glimpses  of 
you  whizzing  past  in  a  motor,  surrounded  by  mil- 
linery." Then  he  scanned  the  other's  face  criti- 


PEOPLE  OF    POSITION  231 

cally.  "  You're  looking  better.  Found  the  cure 
for  it,  eh?  I  always  thought  that  both  the  reason 
and  the  remedy  would  prove  to  wear  skirts." 

Jimmy  flushed  awkwardly.  He  did  not  alto- 
gether admire  Dr.  Gregg's  frankness;  and  yet  he 
was  grateful  for  the  implied  testimony  to  his  refor- 
mation, so  he  answered  with  a  laugh,  and,  after 
a  few  minutes'  conversation,  willingly  consented 
to  go  up  to  dinner  at  the  doctor's  that  night. 
After  all,  it  would  be  dull  alone  in  the  cottage, 
and  he  knew  that  Ethel  would  not  want  him,  as 
she,  too,  was  dining  out. 

The  doctor  was  an  old  bachelor,  or  at  least  the 
town  assumed  him  to  be  one.  True,  when  he  had 
first  bought  the  practice,  thirty  years  previously, 
he  had  made  no  definite  statement  on  the  matter; 
and,  for  a  time,  people  had  shaken  their  heads, 
and,  on  that  purely  negative  evidence,  had  done 
what  they  called  "  drawing  their  own  conclusions." 
His  wife  had  run  away  from  him,  and  they  would 
hear  of  her  one  day,  in  connection  with  some  scan- 
dal, and  she  would  allege,  and  probably  prove, 
that  he  had  ill-used  her.  However,  as  months 
went  by,  and  they  did  not  hear — in  fact  they  never 
heard  anything — they  admitted  they  had  been 
wrong,  and  began  to  pity  him  as  the  husband 
of  an  incurable  lunatic,  who  was  confined  in  an 
asylum  near  London.  But  even  that  story  had 


232  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

died  a  lingering  death  from  sheer  want  of  nourish- 
ment, and  long  before  Jimmy  had  appeared  in  the 
neighbourhood,  even  the  mothers'  meetings  had 
ceased  to  discuss  the  doctor's  private  affairs.  He 
was  just  the  gruff  and  well-beloved  friend  of  every- 
one in  the  place,  a  man  of  whom  even  the  preacher 
in  the  Peculiar  People's  chapel  spoke  with  respect. 

"  Old  friends  of  yours  at  Drylands,  after  all?  " 
the  doctor  asked  abruptly,  as  they  sat  smoking 
in  his  study  after  dinner. 

Jimmy  nodded.  "  Yes,  you  got  the  name 
wrong,  you  see,  and,  naturally,  I  didn't  recognise 
it.  I've  known  the  Grimmers,  or  at  least  Mrs. 
Grimmer,  all  my  life." 

"  It's  a  bad  thing  to  get  out  of  touch  with  people 
you  know,"  the  other  went  on.  "  A  very  bad 
thing.  Never  have  a  family  quarrel,  if  you  can 
avoid  it,  Grierson,  or,  rather,  never  have  another." 

"  How  do  you  know  I  have  had  one?  "  Jimmy 
demanded. 

The  old  man  smiled.  "  You've  as  good  as  told 
me  so,  a  score  of  times.  Bad  things  family  quar- 
rels. After  all,  your  relations  are  your  own  flesh 
and  blood." 

Jimmy  did  not  answer;  latterly,  he  had  begun 
to  realise  the  truth  of  what  the  other  was  saying; 
and  he  knew  more  than  ever  the  value  of  peace. 

For  a  little  while  they  smoked  in  silence,  then, 


PEOPLE   OF    POSITION  233 

"  How  did  you  happen  to  light  on  this  town  in 
the  first  instance?"  the  doctor  asked. 

"  I  hardly  know  myself,"  Jimmy  answered.  "  I 
wanted  some  quiet  place,  and  someone — I  have 
never  been  able  to  remember  who  it  was — had 
once  mentioned  it  to  me  as  the  ideal  spot.  The 
name  had  stuck  in  my  memory,  so  I  came  down 
here  on  chance  and  liked  it  from  the  first.  I  must 
say,  though,  I've  found  it  dull  at  times." 

"  No  place  is  dull  when  you  know  it  well 
enough,"  the  old  man  retorted.  "  Yes,  I  mean 
it.  You,  as  a  writer,  ought  to  understand  that. 
It's  only  dull  if  you  make  it  so  for  yourself  by 
being  out  of  sympathy  with  its  people.  .  .  . 
How's  the  book  getting  on?" 

"  Pretty  well,  I  believe.  The  publishers  say 
they're  quite  satisfied  with  it  for  a  first  novel.  One 
doesn't  expect  to  make  a  big  splash  at  the 
start." 

"  Some  never  make  a  splash  at  all,  even  though 
they  do  good  work.  I  knew  one."  The  doctor 
shook  his  head  sadly.  "  He  lived  in  this  town, 
only  a  few  doors  from  here.  He  used  to  write 
scientific  books,  and  was  admitted  to  be  the  best 
man  in  England  on  his  own  subject;  yet  he  got 
more  and  more  hard  up  all  the  time.  I  don't  know 
what  he  and  his  daughter  really  did  live  on  for 
the  last  year  or  two.  It  ended  in  something  very 


PEOPLE   OF    POSITION 

like  a  tragedy.  Ah,  it  was  a  bad  business,  a  ter- 
rible business,"  and  he  sighed  heavily. 

Jimmy's  lips  seemed  suddenly  to  have  become 
dry  and  hard;  but  his  voice  was  almost  normal 
as  he  asked,  "What  was  it,  doctor?" 

The  old  man  began  to  fill  a  pipe  with  rather 
exaggerated  care.  "  It  was  the  daughter,"  he  an- 
swered, without  looking  up.  "  She  was  a  sweet 
girl,  the  best,  most  unselfish  girl  I  ever  knew; 
but  curiously  young  in  many  ways,  dangerously 
young — you  understand?  She  had  been  brought 
up  alone  with  him — no  woman  to  tell  her  things. 
That's  bad.  Confound  it  all,  sir," — he  raised  his 
voice  in  a  sudden  explosion  of  wrath, — "parents 
have  no  right  to  keep  their  girls  in  ignorance. 
It's  criminal  negligence;  at  least  it  was  in  this 
case.  They  were  desperately  poor,  and  he  was 
dying;  wanted  all  sorts  of  things."  He  paused 
again  and  made  a  show  of  lighting  his  pipe,  but 
the  match  burnt  out  ineffectually,  then  he  went 
on.  "They  hadn't  a  shilling,  and  none  of  the 
tradesmen  would  trust  them.  And  a  man,  a  young 
scoundrel  belonging  to  this  very  town,  offered  her 
ten  pounds  to  go  away  with  him  for  a  couple  of 
days,  showed  her  the  gold.  .  .  .  What  was 
that?  "  he  demanded  quickly  as  Jimmy's  pipe  stem 
snapped  suddenly  in  his  hands. 

Jimmy  himself  had  shifted  slightly,  so  that  the 


PEOPLE  OF    POSITION  235 

lamplight  did  not  fall  on  his  face;  but  the  old  man 
was  not  looking  at  him  as  he  resumed  his  story. 

"  She  said  she  was  going  to  town,  to  beg  his 
publishers  for  money,  and  he,  luckily,  died  believ- 
ing it.  But  someone  else  had  seen  her;  and  the 
women  hunted  her  out.  She  fled  to  London,  no 
money,  no  friends,  and  you  can  guess  what  must 
have  happened.  Poor  child!" 

"What  happened  to  the  man?"  Jimmy  asked 
in  a  voice  which  made  the  doctor  give  a  grim 
little  nod  of  approval  as  he  answered: 

"  I  felt  that  way  myself.  He  abandoned  her 
like  a  skunk,  and  his  people  threw  the  blame  on 
her  for  tempting  him.  Tempting  him!  He  had 
a  motor  smash  soon  after,  and  I  tried  my  utmost 
to  pull  him  through,  because  he  would  have  been 
a  hideously  disfigured  cripple;  but  he  died,  and 
I  never  regretted  a  patient  more." 

Jimmy  got  up  abruptly.  He  knew  now  who 
it  was  who  had  mentioned  that  town  to  him,  and 
unconsciously  sent  him  to  live  there.  He  had  not 
the  slightest  doubt  in  his  own  mind  what  the  an- 
swer would  be  when  he  asked: 

"What  was  their  name?" 

"  Penrose,"  the  doctor  answered.  "  She  was 
Lalage  Penrose." 


CHAPTER   XXVI 

T  IMMY'S  mind  was  in  a  fever  as  he  walked 
<*  home  that  night ;  in  fact,  he  felt  it  would  be 
useless  to  try  to  sleep,  so  he  went  on,  past  the 
cottage,  past  Drylands,  where  the  lights  were  all 
out,  right  to  the  next  village,  three  miles  away. 
But  whilst  he  stalked  along  he  gradually  grew 
calmer.  Things  seemed  to  become  simpler,  more 
easy  to  bear,  and  to  understand.  He  saw  Lalage 
now  in  a  different  light,  and  he  felt  that,  as  her 
character  was  partially  cleared,  so,  in  some  subtle 
way,  his  own  sin  became  less,  and  he  need  no 
longer  have  any  compunction  about  asking  Vera 
Farlow  to  be  his  wife. 

True,  for  one  wild  moment,  his  old  love  for 
Lalage  seemed  to  surge  up  within  him ;  but  he  was 
passing  Drylands  on  his  way  back  at  the  time, 
and,  as  he  glanced  at  the  windows,  the  Grierson 
strain  in  him  asserted  itself  triumphantly.  He 
might  pity  and  forgive  Lalage;  but  his  wife  must 
be  one  whom  he  could  take  anywhere,  introduce 
anywhere;  there  must  be  no  horrible  fear  of  the 
past  coming  to  light  again,  and,  possibly  ruining, 
not  only  his  own  career,  but  that  of  his  children 

236 


PEOPLE   OF    POSITION  237 

as  well.  He  thought  of  Lalage  tenderly,  but  al- 
most with  condescension;  and,  when  he  turned  in 
finally,  Vera  Farlow — who  belonged  to  the  Grier- 
son  world — was  uppermost  in  his  mind.  Conse- 
quently, he  slept  well  and  awoke,  not  to  brood 
over  what  Dr.  Gregg  had  told  him,  but  to  specu- 
late on  a  future  in  which  Vera  should  play  the 
main  part. 

Vera  had  money  of  her  own,  Jimmy  knew  that, 
and,  unquestionably,  the  fact  weighed  with  him, 
not  from  a  sordid  point  of  view,  but  because  it 
made  the  risks  of  marriage  so  much  smaller. 
There  would  be  no  fear  of  his  wife  being  left 
penniless,  dependent  on  the  charity  of  relatives. 
As  for  his  own  prospects,  he  was  inclined  to  take 
a  rosy  view  of  them.  He  had  made  a  good  start, 
and  that,  as  he  was  well  aware,  was  more  than 
half  the  battle.  Another  year,  and  he  ought  to 
be  earning  enough  to  justify  him  in  marrying. 

It  would  be  very  pleasant  to  have  his  own  house, 
a  permanent  home.  Vera  had  plenty  of  friends, 
and  he  knew  that  there  were  many  others  who 
would  be  glad  enough  to  meet  the  rising  author. 
They  would  soon  have  a  position,  especially  if, 
as  seemed  probable,  Canon  Farlow  did  get  the 
first  vacant  bishopric. 

Jimmy  had  not  much  fear  as  to  what  Vera's 
answer  would  be.  They  had  got  to  know  one  an- 


238  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

other  very  well  in  that  fortnight  at  Drylands,  and 
much  of  her  almost  prim  reserve  had  already  dis- 
appeared. She  was  twenty-five,  or  thereabouts, 
quite  old  enough  to  know  her  own  mind,  and  it 
was  not  likely  that  her  father,  having  three  other 
unmarried  daughters  on  his  hands,  would  offer 
any  serious  objection.  May,  too,  would  probably 
be  pleased  when  she  came  to  look  at  the  matter 
in  the  right  light,  because,  as  he  told  himself  with 
a  cynical  little  smile,  it  would  prove  that  the  La- 
lage  episode  was  definitely  at  an  end.  And  then, 
for  a  moment,  he  thought  of  Lalage  again,  the 
Lalage  of  whom  the  doctor  had  told  him,  young, 
almost  childish  in  her  inexperience,  sacrificing  her 
innocence  for  the  sake  of  her  dying  father.  Sud- 
denly he  got  up,  feeling  half  choked.  If  only 
that  man  had  not  died  after  the  motor  smash,  if 
only  he  had  lived  to  suffer. 

He  walked  up  and  down  the  little  room  several 
times,  trying  to  regain  his  self-control,  trying  to 
put  Lalage  out  of  his  mind,  and  to  think  only  of 
Vera.  But  it  was  impossible.  Phrases  the  doctor 
had  used  seemed  to  be  engraved  on  his  memory. 
Almost  against  his  will,  he  found  himself  repeat- 
ing them,  and  with  them  came  a  mental  picture 
of  Lalage's  pitiful  shame  and  grief  when  the  real 
meaning  of  what  she  had  done  came  home  to  her. 
And  then  the  horror  of  it,  the  crowning  tragedy 


PEOPLE   OF   POSITION  239 

of  it  all — her  father  had  died  in  the  end,  and  she 
had  been  driven  to  the  streets  of  London. 

He  had  thought  he  had  forgotten,  and  now 
he  found  he  remembered  everything.  He  could 
see  her  with  the  mud  squelching  through  her 
shoes,  friendless,  penniless,  homeless,  without 
either  references  or  experience,  tramping  hour 
after  hour  in  the  rain,  standing  outside  the  shop 
window  where  the  big  kitchen  stoves  were  on  ex- 
hibition, trying  to  imagine  that  some  of  the  heat 
from  the  fires  was  reaching  her  numbed  body; 
and  then  someone  spoke  to  her — oh,  it  was  all  too 
hideous. 

He  had  intended  putting  in  a  hard  day's  work, 
starting  a  new  novel,  but  there  could  be  no  question 
of  that  now.  He  picked  up  the  morning  paper 
and  tried  to  read  that,  but,  somehow,  the  pages 
seemed  to  be  one  huge  blurr,  and,  when  the  letters 
did  come  into  line,  they  always  formed  the  word 
"  Lalage."  At  last,  in  sheer  desperation,  he  took 
his  hat,  shut  up  the  cottage,  and  went  into  the 
town.  In  the  smoking-room  of  the  principal 
hotel,  he  met  several  men  he  knew  slightly.  As 
a  rule,  he  would  merely  have  nodded  to  them, 
but  now  the  old  craving  for  companionship  was 
on  him  again,  and  he  greeted  them  cordially, 
whilst,  instead  of  the  one  drink  he  had  intended 
to  take,  he  had  so  many  that  he  lost  count.  When, 


24o  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

at  last,  he  did  come  out,  he  was  still  sober  so  far 
as  external  appearance  went;  and  yet  perhaps  be- 
cause the  sunlight  was  bright  whilst  the  smoking- 
room  had  been  dark,  he  failed  to  notice  a  carriage 
containing  a  couple  of  ladies  whom  he  had  met  at 
Drylands.  They  bowed  to  him,  and  then,  when 
he  did  not  raise  his  hat,  exchanged  meaning 
glances. 

The  elder,  Mrs.  Richards,  wife  of  a  local  mag- 
nate, put  their  thoughts  into  words.  "  We  caught 
sight  of  him  going  in  there  two  hours  ago,  and 
now  he  cannot  see  us.  I  had  heard  a  rumour 
that  there  was  that  especial  failing,  but  I  had 

hoped  it  wasn't  true.    Now,  however "     She 

was  a  kindly-natured  woman,  and  she  broke  off 
with  a  sigh. 

Her  companion  nodded.  "  I  wonder  if  that 
nice  Miss  Farlow  knows.  Mrs.  Grimmer  hinted 
that  an  engagement  was  quite  possible,  and  I  think 
someone  ought  to  warn  the  girl.  It  would  be  a 
dreadful  thing  if  she  found  out  too  late." 

Jimmy's  outbreak  was,  however,  of  very  short 
duration.  Even  as  he  walked  back  to  the  cottage 
Vera's  influence,  or  rather,  the  thought  of  all  that 
marriage  with  Vera  would  mean,  reasserted  itself, 
and  the  memory  of  Lalage  began  to  grow  dim 
again.  After  all,  what  was  the  good  of  making 
himself  miserable  about  the  dead  past?  It  could 


PEOPLE   OF   POSITION  241 

not  be  changed,  and  so  the  best  thing  to  do  was 
to  try  and  forget  it,  as  far  as  possible.  It  was 
but  a  very  poor  compHment  to  Vera  if,  only  the 
day  after  her  departure,  his  mind  was  full  of  an- 
other woman. 

He  might  pity  Lalage,  but  he  was  not  going 
to  let  the  remembrance  of  her  ruin  his  future. 
He  had  a  prospect  now  of  regaining  what  he  had 
lost  when  he  first  met  her,  and  he  would  be  a  fool 
to  imperil  that  prospect  by  mere  foolish  sentiment. 
Moreover,  he  would  leave  that  wretched  whisky 
alone;  it  was  a  weak  and  idiotic  habit  to  drink 
as  he  had  been  drinking,  and  the  knowledge  of 
it  would  shock  Vera  terribly.  Men  in  her  world, 
which  was,  after  all,  his  own  world  too,  did  not 
do  those  things.  He  saw  it  now.  Before  the 
Grimmers  came  down  it  had  been  different.  For 
a  time,  he  had  lost  all  ambition,  all  sense  of  self- 
respect;  but  contact  with  Ethel  and  Vera  had 
changed  all  that,  had  brought  out  the  dormant 
Grierson  instincts,  the  passion  for  order  and  re- 
spectability, and  the  comforts  of  life,  and  he  had 
grown  to  detest  the  old  mode  of  existence. 

One  thing  was  certain;  before  he  proposed  to 
Vera  he  must  break  off  all  correspondence  with 
Lalage.  He  told  himself  so,  several  times,  and 
tried  to  think  out  the  letter  he  would  write.  He 
would  send  her  a  cheque  for  a  fair  amount,  so 


242  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

that  she  would  have  a  reserve  fund,  and  then — 
he  would  never  hear  of  her  again,  never  know 
if  she  were  alive  or  dead,  if  she  had  enough  food, 
or  even  if  she  were  married.  Suddenly,  that 
same  queer,  choking  sensation  came  back,  and  he 
got  up  quickly  as  if  wanting  air.  He  seemed  to 
hear  Lalage's  cry  on  that  most  ghastly  day  of  his 
life :  "  I  did  it  all  for  you,  Jimmy.  I  did  it  all 
for  you." 

And  so,  in  the  end,  he  compromised  with  his 
conscience,  and  wrote  her  a  briefer  letter  than 
usual.  Possibly,  he  might  have  been  surprised 
had  he  known  that  Lalage  cried  herself  to  sleep 
over  that  same  letter,  though  next  day,  and  for 
many  days  after,  until  she  heard  again,  she 
carried  it  in  her  dress  through  the  long  hours  of 
drudgery  in  the  little  shop,  and  slept  with  it  under 
her  pillow  at  night.  Jimmy's  hand  had  touched 
that  precious  slip  of  paper. 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

JIMMY'S  engagement  to  Vera  Farlow  was  an 
accomplished  fact. 

'  You  have  got  to  thank  me  for  it  all,  Jimmy," 
Ethel  said,  when  he  came  to  her  for  congratula- 
tions. "  You  would  certainly  never  have  done  it 
alone.  In  fact,  once  or  twice  lately  I  have  been 
afraid  that  my  suggestions  and  advice  were  going 
to  be  wasted  after  all.  Yet,  I  don't  quite  know 
what  to  think  of  you,  even  now."  She  put  her 
head  on  one  side  and  surveyed  him  critically. 

"What  do  you  mean?"  he  asked,  smiling. 

Ethel  laughed.  "  I've  known  you  to  make  love 
more  ardently.  Oh,  yes.  I  have  a  very  good 
memory.  Still,  I  won't  tell  Vera.  And  now  I'm 
going  to  write  to  your  sister  May  and  gloat  over 
her.  Of  course  I  shall  gloat,  because  I  suggested 
getting  you  married  off  when  we  first  heard  you 
were  coming  home,  and  May  got  furious  with 
me.  Will  you  write  too?  " 

Jimmy  shook  his  head.  "  No,  yours  will  do, 
at  least  for  a  start.  I've  got  to  write  to  Canon 
Farlow.  Vera  says  he  won't  be  home  from 
Switzerland  for  another  week.  Otherwise,  I 
would  have  gone  to  see  him." 

243 


244  PEOPLE    OF    POSITION 

"  He's  rather  an  old  stick,  if  I  may  say  that  of 
your  beloved's  father,"  Ethel  went  on.  "  You 
will  find  that  out,  and  his  sermons  are  very  long, 
so  don't  live  in  his  parish  if  you  can  help  it.  You'll 
have  plenty  of  church  in  any  case,  you  poor 
Jimmy." 

"  Why  *  poor  Jimmy,'  when  you've  just  been 
congratulating  me?" 

Ethel  gave  an  impatient  little  sigh.  "  I  don't 
know,  I'm  sure.  Now  I've  done  it  I'm  wonder- 
ing if  I  was  right.  It's  a  big  responsibility,  and 
you  may  both  end  by  hating  me  ever  after. 
Promise  me  you  won't,  Jimmy,  do  promise  that." 
Her  voice  had  grown  unusually  earnest,  and  her 
eyes  were  suspiciously  bright. 

"  Of  course  I  promise,  Ethel,"  he  said  gravely. 
"  But  I  don't  think  there  is  much  fear  of  my  feel- 
ing anything  except  gratitude." 

But  Mrs.  Grimmer  was  not  satisfied.  "  I  wish 
I  had  left  it  alone.  I  don't  know  how  it  is,  but 
you're  not  the  old  Jimmy  any  longer,  and  I  can't 
understand  you.  You're  not  half  as  happy  as 
you  ought  to  be  under  the  circumstances.  Now, 
are  you?" 

He  protested  vigorously  against  the  idea,  and 
yet  he  left  her  so  entirely  unconvinced  that,  in- 
stead of  going  to  Vera,  she  sought  out  her  hus- 
band and  had  a  good  cry  on  his  shoulder. 


PEOPLE   OF   POSITION  245 

"  I  ought  not  to  have  done  it,  Billy,"  she 
sobbed.  "  If  anything  goes  wrong  when  it's  too 
late,  Jimmy  will  take  it  to  heart  so  terribly.  I 
wish  I  wasn't  responsible,  but  I  am,  and  I  can't 
deny  it." 

Billy  tried  to  comfort  her.  "My  dear,  they 
seem  happy  enough  over  it.  I  know  Vera  is  very 
grateful  to  you." 

Ethel  shrugged  her  shoulders.  "  Vera !  Oh,  she 
would  be  happy,  because  she  doesn't  feel  very 
deeply.  She  never  did  about  anything.  It  was 
always  the  same  with  her  when  she  was  a  child. 
But  Jimmy  is  different.  He's  not  in  love." 

"Then  why  did  he  propose?"  Billy  retorted. 
"  Was  it  her  money?  " 

"  No,  no,"  Ethel  repudiated  the  idea  emphati- 
cally. "  Jimmy  is  not  that  sort.  I  think  he  pro- 
posed because  he's  been  very  miserable  over  some- 
thing, and  Vera  took  his  thoughts  off  his  other 
troubles.  But  he  won't  be  happy." 

There  was  no  mistaking  the  conviction  in  her 
voice,  and,  for  a  moment,  even  her  husband  was 
moved  out  of  his  usual  good-humoured  com- 
placency; but  he  soon  recovered  and  tried  to  laugh 
away  her  fears,  without,  however,  achieving  much 
success.  She  was  not  in  a  mood  to  be  reassured, 
although  she  contrived  to  put  on  a  smiling  face 
when  she  met  the  newly  engaged  pair  at  dinner. 


246  PEOPLE    OF    POSITION 

Vera  was  a  little  inclined  to  blush,  but  obviously 
happy.  Jimmy,  on  the  other  hand,  was  by  turns 
silent,  almost  moody,  and  then  feverishly  talka- 
tive. Vera  seemed  to  notice  nothing  amiss — pos- 
sibly she  put  it  down  to  natural  excitement — but 
Ethel  watched  him  with  anxiety,  which  she  tried 
hard  to  conceal.  As  she  said,  the  whole  thing 
was  her  doing.  She  had  engineered  it  carefully, 
and  she  was,  at  least  in  matters  like  these,  a  clever 
woman.  True,  once  or  twice,  she  felt  a  slight 
misgiving,  but  she  had  made  up  her  mind  to  suc- 
ceed, and  had  brushed  her  fears  aside.  Only  when 
Jimmy  came  with  the  news  that  her  scheme  had 
become  an  accomplished  fact  did  she  realise  that 
match-making  is  a  dangerous  occupation.  He 
neither  looked  nor  spoke  like  a  lover  who  had  just 
been  accepted,  but  rather  like  a  man  who  sees  the 
crisis  of  his  life  a  little  way  ahead  of  him,  and 
is  fearful  of  his  own  capacity  to  pass  through  it. 

Vera  was  quite  satisfied  with  Jimmy's  farewell 
kiss.  Had  there  been  passion  in  it  she  might  have 
been  frightened;  but,  as  it  was,  the  caress  he  gave 
her  seemed  very  sweet.  She  was  very  proud  of 
this  lover  of  hers,  of  his  undoubted  cleverness, 
his  good  looks,  and  his  powers  of  conversation. 
It  would  be  very  pleasant  to  see  his  name  on  all 
the  bookstalls,  to  know  that  almost  every  other 
girl  of  her  acquaintance  would  envy  her  the  pos- 


PEOPLE  OF   POSITION  247 

session  of  her  author.  So  far,  she  had  hardly 
thought  of  marriage  and  its  responsibilities;  all 
that  part  seemed  a  long  way  off,  in  the  distant 
future,  and,  for  the  moment,  she  thought  only  of 
the  engagement.  But  as  Jimmy  walked  home  in 
the  moonlight,  Vera  Farlow  was  hardly  in  his 
mind  at  all;  he  was  thinking  of  other  kisses  he 
had  given  and  received,  and,  try  as  he  would,  he 
could  not  drive  out  a  horrible  feeling  that,  every 
time  his  lips  touched  Vera's,  he  was  being  unfaith- 
ful to  Lalage.  It  was  absurd,  wholly  ridiculous, 
he  told  himself  so  savagely;  but  still  a  sense  of 
shame  and  ingratitude  remained.  Lalage,  who 
had  suffered  so  much,  and,  as  he  realised  now, 
had  suffered,  too,  for  him,  was  in  that  shop,  the 
sort  of  place  where  one  could  spend  one's  whole 
life,  and  he  was  going  to  marry  Vera  Farlow, 
and  cut  the  last  slender  link  between  himself  and 
the  girl  he  had  once  loved,  was  going  to  make 
her  a  last  present,  of  money,  and  ask  her  not  to 
write  again. 

Jimmy  let  himself  into  the  cottage,  fully  deter- 
mined to  go  through  with  the  task  there  and 
then,  to  write  the  letter  almost  before  he  had 
time  to  think,  and  to  post  it  immediately.  Yet 
dawn  found  him  still  sitting  at  his  desk  with  a 
pile  of  cigarette  ends  and  an  empty  decanter  on 
the  tray,  and  a  blank  sheet  of  paper  in  front  of 


248  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

him.  At  last,  he  got  up  with  a  sigh,  extinguished 
the  lamp,  and  stumbled  wearily  to  bed.  It  was 
not  that  the  spirit  had  affected  him — he  felt  he 
would  have  given  anything  to  have  it  do  so — but 
he  was  utterly  exhausted  mentally,  and,  the  mo- 
ment he  lay  down,  he  went  into  a  heavy,  dream- 
less sleep,  which  lasted  until  ten  o'clock. 

When  Jimmy  awakened  in  the  morning  the  first 
thing  he  remembered  was  that  he  had  promised 
to  meet  Vera  at  eleven.  He  would  have  no  time 
for  breakfast,  but  that  did  not  trouble  him,  as 
he  would  have  eaten  nothing  in  any  case.  His 
meal,  however,  was  not  the  only  matter  which 
would  have  to  be  left  over.  He  would  only  have 
just  sufficient  time  to  shave  and  dress  and  walk 
up  to  Drylands;  consequently,  as  he  told  himself 
with  an  undeniable  sense  of  relief,  his  letter  to 
Lalage  must  be  put  off  until  the  evening,  if  not 
until  the  following  day. 

Vera  did  not  seem  to  notice  anything  unusual 
in  his  appearance,  or,  if  she  did,  she  made  no  re- 
mark on  it ;  but  when  they  met  Ethel  a  little  later, 
that  lady  scanned  his  face  anxiously,  and  took 
the  first  opportunity  of  calling  him  aside. 

"You  didn't  sleep,  Jimmy.  You're  worrying 
about  something,"  she  said,  bluntly. 

Jimmy  made  a  rather  unsuccessful  attempt  to 
laugh.  "  I'm  taking  on  responsibilities,"  he  said. 


PEOPLE   OF    POSITION  249 

"  I  realise  it  now,  and  the  letter  to  Canon  Farlow 
is  still  unwritten,  although  I  must  do  it  before  the 
afternoon  post  goes  out.  Vera  had  better  help 
me,  I  think.  Did  you  write  to  May?" 

"  Last  night,  after  you  had  gone,"  Ethel  an- 
swered. "  It  went  by  the  nine-thirty  this  morn- 
ing, so  May  will  know  before  she  goes  to  bed 
to-night."  Then  she  went  back  to  the  subject 
of  himself.  "  What  is  it  you  are  worrying  about, 
Jimmy?  Is  it  anything  that  I  can  help  you 
with?" 

He  shook  his  head.  "There's  no  trouble, 
really  there  isn't.  What  can  there  be?  Vera  and 
I  both  know  our  own  minds,  and  in  another  year's 
time  I  ought  to  be  making  a  decent  income.  You 
will  be  able  to  point  us  out  proudly  as  a  couple 
whose  happiness  you  secured." 

He  tried  to  speak  lightly,  but  he  did  not  con- 
vince her  in  the  least;  though  she  put  on  a  smile 
when  Vera  came  out  again. 

"  Jimmy  hasn't  written  to  your  father  yet,  Vera," 
she  said.  "  You  had  better  take  him  into  the 
library  now,  and  make  him  do  it  at  once,  or  else 
he'll  keep  on  putting  it  off.  I  know  his  ways  of 
old.  He  lacks  all  his  family's  instinct  for  busi- 
ness-like promptitude.  Now,  his  brother  Walter 
probably  had  all  such  letters  ready,  or  at  least 
drafted  out,  before  he  proposed.  Jimmy  has 


250  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

none  of  the  Grierson  ways,  as  May  will  doubtless 
tell  you." 

Vera  frowned  slightly.  Sometimes  Ethel's 
flippant  speech  jarred  on  her  a  little.  Family 
matters  are  treated  as  serious  things  in  the  house- 
hold of  a  canon  who  has  relatives  possessing  in- 
fluence; moreover,  it  was  by  no  means  pleasant  to 
be  told  that  Jimmy  was  different  from  the  Grier- 
sons.  It  was  almost  an  implied  slur  on  his  re- 
spectability. However,  before  she  had  time  to 
make  any  protest,  Ethel  had  moved  off,  and 
Jimmy  changed  the  current  of  her  thoughts  by 
suggesting  that  the  letter  to  Canon  Farlow  had 
better  be  written  at  once,  and  she  led  the  way 
into  the  library,  well  pleased  at  the  idea. 

Possibly  because  the  letter  to  Lalage  would  be 
so  terribly  difficult  to  compose,  Jimmy  found  that 
to  his  future  father-in-law  comparatively  easy. 
There  was  not  much  feeling  in  it  perhaps — even 
Vera,  who  read  it  with  partial  eyes,  could  not  help 
noting  the  fact — but,  after  all,  it  was  in  a  sense  a 
matter  of  business;  and  so  she  was  able  to  find 
consolation  in  its  clear,  incisive  phrasing.  She 
was  glad  when  it  was  finished,  more  glad  still 
when  they  had  strolled  down  to  the  pillar  box 
outside  the  gates,  and  dropped  the  envelope  in 
it.  Their  relations  were  on  a  definite  footing  now, 
and  she  had  little  doubt  that  her  father  would 


PEOPLE  OF    POSITION  251 

be  well  pleased.  Of  course,  Jimmy  was  still  a 
poor  man;  he  had  been  perfectly  frank  on  that 
point;  but  still  he  was  making  a  name,  and,  as 
he  said,  he  would  now  have  a  still  stronger  in- 
centive to  work.  Altogether,  she  was  quite  satis- 
fied with  her  prospects,  and  convinced  that  she 
had  done  a  wise  thing  in  saying  "  Yes."  Perhaps, 
somewhere  at  the  back  of  her  mind,  there  was 
sense  of  disappointment,  a  feeling  that  both  she 
and  her  lover  were  wanting  in  enthusiasm;  but, 
if  she  did  experience  anything  of  the  sort,  she 
crushed  it  down  resolutely,  knowing  well  that  pas- 
sion is  closely  allied  to  wickedness,  if  it  is  not  even 
a  form  of  wickedness.  She  had  been  taught  from 
childhood  that  sentiment  is  of  necessity  either  sin- 
ful or  ridiculous,  and  that  the  basis  of  a  success- 
ful marriage — which  was  her  people's  phrase  for 
a  happy  marriage — is  equality  of  position,  com- 
bined with  business  instincts  on  the  part  of  the 
man.  People  in  her  world  lived  to  get  on;  it  was 
a  sacred  duty  with  them;  failure  to  do  so  was  dis- 
creditable, almost  criminal,  as  she  had  often  heard 
her  mother  say  when  engaged  in  district  visiting 
amongst  the  homes  of  the  improvident  poor. 
Jimmy  would  get  on,  she  fully  believed  that,  es- 
pecially when  he  had  a  sensible  wife  to  help  him; 
moreover,  he  was  both  good  looking  and  sweet 
natured;  consequently,  she  told  herself  that  he 


252  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

was  all  she  could  have  wished  for.  It  had  never 
occurred  to  her  that  he  might  have  a  past,  because 
neither  the  Griersons,  nor  the  Farlows,  nor  any- 
one in  their  world,  ever  had  such  things.  They 
seemed  to  live  in  a  monotonous  present  of  nega- 
tive virtue,  wholly  safe  and  solid.  So  she  had 
asked  him  no  questions,  and  he  had  volunteered 
no  confessions. 

The  day  passed  all  too  quickly  for  Jimmy,  too 
quickly,  not  because  he  was  revelling  in  the  society 
of  his  fiancee,  but  because  each  hour  brought  him 
nearer  the  moment  when  he  must  write  that  final 
letter  to  Lalage.  He  stayed  later  than  usual,  so 
late  that  Ethel  had  a  hard  task  to  hide  her  yawns; 
but  when,  at  last,  he  did  go  back  to  the  cottage, 
he  made  no  attempt  to  carry  out  what  had  now 
become  the  most  hateful  task  of  his  life. 

"  It  will  do  in  the  morning,"  he  muttered  as  he 
turned  out  the  lamp. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

TIT  AY  looked  up  from  Ethel's  letter  with  a  little 
•*-*•*•  cry  of  indignation.  "  Jimmy  is  engaged  to 
Vera  Farlow,  Henry !  Did  you  ever  hear  of  such 
a  thing!  It  seems  the  Grimmers  have  been  stay- 
ing quite  close  to  Jimmy's  cottage,  and  Ethel  had 
Vera  down  on  purpose — at  least  I'm  sure  she  did. 
I  had  no  idea  they  had  met  Jimmy.  He  never 
mentioned  it  in  his  last  letter,  nor  did  Ethel  when 
I  met  her  in  town." 

Henry  Marlow  had  put  down  the  evening  paper 
and  was  staring  at  his  wife  solemnly.  He  scented 
trouble,  possibly  unpleasantness,  and  he  was  by 
no  means  sure  what  course  he  would  be  expected 
to  take.  Had  they  been  alone  it  would  have  been 
different;  but  Ida  was  staying  with  them,  and 
though  Marlow  admired  his  sister-in-law  greatly 
in  the  abstract,  or  at  any  rate  in  a  photograph, 
he  was  unaffectedly  afraid  of  her,  even  in  his  own 
house.  So  he  said  nothing  when  May  read  out 
Mrs.  Grimmer's  letter,  only  shook  his  head  twice, 
very  gravely,  and  waited  for  Mrs.  Fenton  to  speak. 

Ida  held  out  her  hand  in  silence  for  the  letter, 
which  she  read  through  carefully,  then,  "  It  has 
been  a  deliberate  plot  on  Ethel  Grimmer's  part," 

253 


254  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

she  said.  u  She  has  gone  out  of  her  way  to  do 
it.  I  know  she  has  got  fast  and  vulgar  lately, 
smoking  cigarettes  and  talking  slang;  but  I  did 
not  think  she  would  do  an  immoral  thing  like 
this." 

Henry,  who  really  had  a  sneaking  admiration 
for  Mrs.  Grimmer,  went  rather  red.  "  Oh,  I  say, 
Ida,  that's  going  a  little  too  far,  isn't  it?  "  he  be- 
gan, but  his  sister-in-law  exchanged  a  meaning 
glance  with  May,  and  then  cut  him  short. 

u  I  beg  your  pardon,  Henry.  Have  you  for- 
gotten Jimmy's  conduct  in  town?  He  is  hardly 
the  fit  husband  for  an  innocent  young  girl  like 
Vera  Farlow;  and,  moreover,  is  he  in  a  position 
to  marry?  He  has  no  settled  income,  and  his  only 
capital  was  the  thousand  pounds  which  Joseph  was 
foolish  enough  to  leave  him.  I  expect,  too,  that 
he  has  squandered  that  already." 

Henry  got  up  abruptly.  He  had  heard  that 
legacy  discussed  until  he  loathed  the  very  mention 
of  it;  and  now  he  had  no  intention  of  listening 
whilst  the  whole  matter  was  threshed  out  anew. 

"  Well,  I'll  leave  you  to  talk  it  over  whilst  I 
go  and  have  a  smoke,"  he  said. 

But  his  wife  caught  his  sleeve.  "  Dear,  you've 
had  a  cigar  already  this  evening,  and  you  might 
stay  and  advise  us  now.  We  must  make  up  our 
minds  what  we  are  going  to  do." 


PEOPLE  OF    POSITION  255 

Rather  sulkily,  Henry  turned  back,  and  went 
over  to  the  fireplace,  where  he  leaned  against  the 
mantelpiece,  and  began  to  fidget  with  his  watch 
chain. 

"  I  don't  see  what  there  is  for  you  to  do,"  he 
said.  "  It's  an  affair  for  Miss  Farlow  and  Jimmy 
to  settle  between  them.  Your  brother  has  sown 
his  wild  oats  now,  and  he'll  be  steady  enough." 

May  shook  her  head  sadly.  "  I  know  you're 
very  kind  to  him,  dear,  kinder  than  he  deserves; 
but  we  must  not  let  our  feelings  stand  in  the  way 
of  our  duty.  What  do  you  say,  Ida?" 

Mrs.  Fenton  nodded.  "  We  know  that  besides 
the  affair  of  that  creature  in  town,  Jimmy  used  to 
drink  too  much.  Probably,  he  does  still.  We 
don't  want  to  have  a  scandal,  and  perhaps  to 
have  his  wife  and  children  penniless  on  our  hands." 

Somehow,  that  night  Henry  Marlow's  temper 
was  not  quite  under  control,  and  his  voice  was 
distinctly  sharp  as  he  retorted,  "  Miss  Farlow 
has  money  of  her  own,  at  least  two  hundred  a 
year,  settled  on  her,  so  they  wouldn't  starve. 
What  is  it  you  propose  to  do?" 

"  Tell  Canon  Farlow  the  truth,  of  course,"  Ida 
answered  with  asperity;  "then  he  can  judge  for 
himself.  It  will  relieve  us  of  responsibility  in 
the  matter.  It  is  the  only  thing  we  can  do." 

Marlow  frowned.    "  It's  not  my  idea  of  what 


256  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

is  right.  You  know  Jimmy  left  this  girl  long 
ago.  Why  can't  you  forget  it,  and  give  him  a 
chance  to  start  again?"  He  addressed  himself 
almost  pointedly  to  his  wife;  but  May  shook  her 
head. 

"  One  can't  forget  in  that  way,  Henry,"  she 
replied,  gently;  "at  least  not  in  this  case.  It 
wouldn't  be  fair  to  Vera,  knowing  what  we  do 
about  Jimmy's  instincts.  No;  Ida  is  right.  We 
must  certainly  tell  Canon  Farlow." 

"But  he's  left  the  girl,"  Henry  persisted;  he 
had  always  liked  Jimmy,  even  if  he  had  never  un- 
derstood him  or  been  greatly  interested  in  him; 
moreover,  the  whole  idea  of  writing  to  the  pros- 
pective father-in-law  was  repugnant  to  his  ideas 
of  fairness. 

"How  do  you  know  he  has  really  left  her?" 
Ida  asked  coldly.  "  He  has  deceived  us  before 
and  may  be  deceiving  us  again.  The  only  ad- 
dress he  has  given  us  is  his  club,  and  this  letter 
from  Ethel  is  the  first  intimation  we  have  had  as 
to  where  he  was  living.  She  may  be  there,  too." 

Mr.  Marlow  laughed  scornfully.  "And  under 
Ethel  Grimmer's  eyes?  Hardly,  Ida.  And,  ac- 
cording to  the  character  you  give  her,  she  is  not 
likely  to  allow  him  to  get  engaged  to  someone 
else.  When  did  you  hear  of  her  last?  " 

"Never,   after  she  fled  that  night."    It  was 


PEOPLE   OF    POSITION  257 

May  who  answered.  "  I  wish  we  had  been  able 
to  follow  her  up." 

"Why?"  Henry  demanded.  "I  think  you 
got  pretty  well  revenged  as  it  was." 

Ida  picked  up  her  needlework  again,  rather 
ostentatiously.  She  had  never  seen  her  brother- 
in-law  in  this  combative  mood  before,  and  it  made 
her  a  little  uneasy;  but  she  was  not  going  to  let 
him  see  that  fact,  so  she  answered  even  more 
coldly  than  before: 

"There  was  no  question  of  revenge,  Henry. 
Really,  the  suggestion  is  a  little  coarse,  if  May 
will  forgive  my  saying  so.  Why  we  wished  to 
find  her  was  for  this  reason.  Gilbert " — she  col- 
oured rather  becomingly  as  she  pronounced  the 
name — Gilbert  was  Mr.  Fugnell,  Ethel's  "  Addi- 
tional Curate,"  to  whom  she  had  recently  become 
engaged — "  Gilbert  is  greatly  interested  in  a  home 
for  these  people,  where  they  do  laundry  work,  and 
so  on,  and  he  was  very  anxious  to  save  her.  He 
said  they  had  several  vacancies,  and  they  had  been 
forced  to  refuse  work  for  want  of  hands.  That, 
if  you  want  to  know,  is  why  we  were  anxious  to 
discover  where  she  had  gone.  It  was  entirely 
for  her  own  good." 

Marlow  did  not  answer.  He  was  a  keen  busi- 
ness man  himself,  and  he  liked  clear  balance 
sheets,  even  from  a  charitable  institution,  but  Mr. 


258  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

Fugnell's  charities  issued  no  accounts  at  all. 
Moreover,  of  late  a  certain  weekly  paper  had  been 
displaying  a  great  deal  of  interest  in  this  very 
Home  of  which  Ida  was  speaking,  and  only  that 
day,  coming  down  in  the  train,  Henry  had  been 
wondering  whether  he  ought  not  to  mention  the 
matter  to  Ida;  but  now  he  realised  that  his  very 
advocacy  of  Jimmy's  claim  to  be  left  alone  had 
practically  rendered  it  impossible  for  him  to  warn 
his  sister-in-law.  He  would  be  doing  the  same 
thing  he  had  condemned  in  her.  So  he  held  his 
peace,  and,  by  a  kind  of  tacit  consent,  the  whole 
matter  was  dropped  for  the  time  being. 

When  Ida  had  gone  up  to  bed,  however,  Mar- 
low  broached  the  question  again  to  his  wife. 
"  Don't  you  really  think  you  had  better  leave 
Jimmy  to  settle  his  own  affairs,  dear?"  he  said. 
"  Just  think  how  we  should  have  felt  if  anyone 
had  come  between  us  when  we  were  engaged.  I 
know  it  would  have  sent  me  wrong  altogether." 

For  a  moment,  May  wavered ;  then  she  laid  her 
hand  on  his  arm  very  tenderly.  "  You  mustn't 
say  that,  Henry.  I  know  you  would  never  have 
done  anything  you  shouldn't  do;  and  then,  you 
see,  you  had  no  past  to  be  afraid  of,  which  makes 
all  the  difference.  No,  I  think  Canon  Farlow  must 
be  told,  -so  that  he  can  investigate  matters  and 
judge  for  himself.  Think  if  there  were  a  scandal 


PEOPLE   OF    POSITION  259 

after  they  were  married,  this  other  woman  making 
a  fuss  at  the  house,  and  perhaps  causing  them  to 
separate.  It  would  ruin  our  position,  too,  and 
we  must  think  of  the  children,  even  though  we 
were  ready  to  take  the  risks  ourselves.  Really, 
sweetheart,  I'm  right.  Jimmy  has  only  himself  to 
blame." 

Her  husband  sighed,  then  bent  down  and  kissed 
her.  "  Well,  I  leave  it  to  you,  May.  He  is  your 
brother,  not  mine.  But  if  this  sends  him  wrong 
again,  you  mustn't  blame  him  too  much.  He  will 
be  very  bitter  with  you  and  Ida." 

May's  face  grew  hard  again.  "  We  cannot  help 
it  if  he  is.  None  of  us  would  agree  to  have  the 
Grierson  name  dragged  in  the  mud  again." 


CHAPTER   XXIX 

/"T~SHE    news   of  Jimmy's    engagement   spread 

•*•  rapidly.  Dr.  Gregg  heard  it  within  twenty- 
four  hours,  and  mentioned  it  the  same  evening  to 
Mrs.  Richards,  the  lady  whose  bow  Jimmy  had 
failed  to  acknowledge  when  he  was  coming  out 
of  the  hotel. 

Mrs.  Richards  shook  her  head  over  the  tidings. 
"  I  cannot  say  I  am  pleased  to  hear  it,  Doctor. 
Mr.  Grierson  can  be  very  nice,  and  I  am  told  he 
is  very  clever;  but  still  I  am  sorry  for  Miss  Far- 
low.  He  has  an  unfortunate  failing." 

"  Do  you  mean  he  drinks  ?  "  the  doctor  asked 
bluntly. 

The  lady  nodded.  "  I,  myself,  have  seen  him 
under  the  influence  of  liquor,  before  mid-day;  and 
my  maid  tells  me  it's  a  common  subject  of  con- 
versation amongst  the  lower  classes  in  the  town. 
I  understand  a  great  many  writers  have  the  same 
weakness,"  she  added,  grimly. 

Dr.  Gregg  snorted.  "  Nonsense,  madam. 
When  Grierson  is  married  he  will  be  as  steady  as 
your  own  sons.  I  know  him  very  well,  and  have 
a  great  respect  for  him.  The  girl  ought  to  be 

260 


PEOPLE  OF   POSITION  261 

proud.  He  is  going  to  make  a  big  name  for  him- 
self; whilst  as  for  the  lower  classes  in  this  town, 
and  the  upper  classes  as  well,  for  that  matter,  their 
chief  object  in  life  seems  to  be  to  make  up  and 
spread  lying  tales." 

"  Dr.  Gregg,  was  more  brusque  than  ever  to- 
day," Mrs.  Richards  remarked  to  her  husband  an 
hour  later.  "  Really,  he  is  such  a  bear  that  if 
one  could  trust  Dr.  Hart  I  would  have  him  in- 
stead. It's  not  nice  to  be  stormed  at  and  prac- 
tically called  a  scandalmonger,  especially  when  I 
know  that  what  I  was  saying  is  true." 

Her  husband  took  her  complaints  lightly,  re- 
membering that  only  a  year  before  that  same  bear 
of  a  doctor  had  snatched  their  youngest  child  out 
of  the  grip  of  death,  and  knowing  well  that,  so 
long  as  the  old  man  remained  in  practice,  his 
wife  would  take  his  word  before  that  of  the  most 
famous  specialist  in  London.  "What  was  the 
trouble  with  Gregg  this  time,  Kate?"  he  asked, 
smiling. 

"  It  was  over  Miss  Farlow's  enagagement,"  she 
answered.  "  I  was  saying  that  I'm  sorry  for  the 
girl,  because  I'm  sure  young  Grierson  drinks;  and 
the  doctor  got  rude  about  it  at  once." 

"  Perhaps  you  were  not  very  wise,  because 
Grierson  is  a  friend  of  his,  as  well  as  a  patient; 
but  still,  I  am  afraid  what  you  said  was  true.  I 


262  PEOPLE   OF    POSITION 

don't  know  the  man  personally;  but  Bateman  and 
Knowles  and  one  or  two  men  who  do  know  him 
say  the  same.  I  hear  he's  been  better  lately, 
though,  since  the  Grimmers  took  Drylands.  Per- 
haps he  was  lonely,  or  something  like  that.  He 
knew  very  few  people  then,  and  it  must  have  been 
horribly  dull  for  him." 

"  I  don't  see  that  there  is  any  excuse  in  that." 
Mrs.  Richards'  voice  was  unusually  severe.  "  He 
could  have  known  people  if  he  liked.  Mr.  But- 
ton, the  vicar,  called  on  him;  but  he's  never  been 
to  church  once  in  over  a  year,  at  least  he  never 
went  until  Miss  Farlow  came  on  the  scene." 

Her  husband  smiled.  "  Perhaps  she's  con- 
verted him,"  he  suggested. 

But  Mrs.  Richards  was  in  earnest.  "  Conver- 
sions of  that  sort  never  last,"  she  went  on.  "  He 
will  be  just  as  bad  again  after  marriage,  when  the 
novelty  has  worn  off.  I  am  sure  I  would  never 
allow  a  man  of  that  sort  to  marry  one  of  our 
daughters." 

Mr.  Richards  smiled  again.  "You  might  mis- 
lead a  stranger  by  that  statement,  Kate,  seeing 
that  they  are  both  married  already." 

Then  the  dinner  gong  sounded,  and  he  straight- 
way forgot  all  about  the  matter;  but  his  wife 
could  not  get  it  out  of  her  mind.  Her  dearest 
girl  friend  had  married  a  man  who  had  turned 


PEOPLE   OF   POSITION  263 

out  to  be  an  incurable  drunkard,  and  the  tragedy 
of  those  two  ruined  lives  came  back  to  her  vividly, 
so  vividly  in  fact  that  she  determined  to  call  at 
Drylands  on  the  following  day,  nominally  to  offer 
her  congratulations  to  Vera  Farlow,  really  to  see 
if  she  could  not  whisper  a  word  of  warning  into 
Mrs.  Grimmer's  ear. 

"  Mrs.  Grimmer  is  not  at  home,"  the  servant 
said,  in  answer  to  her  inquiry. 

Mrs.  Richards  began  to  open  her  card  case, 
then,  acting  on  a  sudden  resolution,  she  looked 
up  again  and  asked,  "Is  Miss  Farlow  in?" 

"  Yes,  madam,"  the  maid  answered. 

Mrs.  Richards  closed  her  card  case  with  a 
snap,  and  followed  the  maid  into  the  drawing- 
room. 

Vera  looked  so  happy  that  for  a  moment  the 
visitor  hesitated,  then  the  very  innocence  and  gen- 
tleness of  the  girl  strengthened  her  resolution, 
clinched  it,  and  she  saw  her  path  of  duty  more 
clearly  than  ever.  Deliberately,  she  sought  for 
an  opening. 

"Have  you  known  Mr.  Grierson  long?"  she 
asked. 

"  Not  very  long,  really,"  Vera  answered.  "  I 
met  him  first  nearly  two  years  ago,  at  dinner. 
But  after  that,  I  did  not  see  him  again  until  I 
came  down  here  with  the  Grimmers.  Still,  he's 


264  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

a  very  old  friend  of  Ethel's — Mrs.  Grimmer,  I 
mean — and  his  people  are  parishioners '  of  my 
father's." 

"  Does  he  often  go  down  to  see  his  people?" 
Mrs.  Richards  asked,  a  new  suspicion  breaking 
on  her  mind. 

Vera  shook  her  head.  "  He's  been  so  busy,  you 
see;  and  it's  a  long  way;  in  fact,  I  don't  think  he 
has  been  there  for  over  a  year." 

Mrs.  Richards'  last  doubt  had  disappeared 
now.  So  Jimmy's  people  knew  of  his  failing  and 
would  not  receive  him  in  their  homes.  Evidently, 
it  was  time  that  someone  interfered  to  save  this 
girl. 

"  It  is  sometimes  a  great  risk  marrying  a  very 
clever  man.  They  are  not  always  too  steady." 

Vera,  who  was  rather  bored  with  her  visitor, 
was  staring  out  of  the  window,  wondering  where 
Jimmy  was,  but  now  she  looked  round  sharply, 
a  glint  of  anger  in  her  eyes. 

"  I  am  not  afraid  of  that  in  Mr.  Grierson's 
case,"  she  answered  coldly.  "  Perhaps  he  is  one 
of  the  exceptions,  that  is,  if  the  rule  itself  is  not 
one  of  those  silly  ideas  people  get  hold  of  and 
insist  on  believing  in  for  no  reason  at  all,  except 
perhaps  because  they're  jealous." 

Mrs.  Richards  coloured  slightly,  but  she  did 
not  take  offence.  Rather,  her  heart  went  out  in 


PEOPLE   OF   POSITION  265 

sympathy  to  this  girl  whose  loyalty  was  likely  to 
be  so  ill  repaid. 

"  My  dear,"  she  said  very  gently,  "  I  came 
intending  to  warn  you,  because  I  was  afraid  no 
one  else  would  have  the  courage  to  tell  you.  No, 
don't  jump  up.  Let  me  finish.  I  am  afraid,  in 
fact,  I  am  sure,  that  Mr.  Grierson  has  that  very 
failing  we  referred  to.  It  is  a  matter  of  common 
knowledge  here;  and,  though  he  may  keep  steady 
whilst  you  are  about,  I  am  sorry  to  say  that  the 
very  first  day  after  you  went  away  last  time,  I 
myself  saw  him  the  worse  for  liquor." 

Vera's  first  impulse  was  to  do  something  theat- 
rical, to  ring  for  the  servants  to  turn  this  abomi- 
nable woman  out,  to  rush  out  herself  and  find 
Jimmy  and  implore  him  to  avenge  the  insult;  but 
something  in  Mrs.  Richards'  manner  checked  her, 
and  in  the  end  she  listened  in  silence,  sitting  very 
still  with  her  hand  in  her  lap. 

When  the  other  had  done,  she  made  one  at- 
tempt at  disbelief.  "  It's  not  true,  it's  not  true," 
she  murmured,  then  she  went  on,  "  Oh,  say  it 
isn't  true.  Do  say  so.  Why  did  you  come  and 
tell  me  when  I  was  so  happy?  " 

There  were  tears  in  Mrs.  Richards'  eyes  as  she 
answered.  "  My  dear,  it's  better  to  know  now 
than  when  it's  too  late,  when  your  life  is  ruined. 
If  you  want  confirmation  you  had  better  make 


266  PEOPLE   OF    POSITION 

other  inquiries.  Ask  Mr.  Grierson  himself.  He 
cannot  deny  it." 

To  Vera's  own  astonishment,  she  let  the  visitor 
kiss  her  before  they  parted;  in  fact,  she  returned 
the  kiss;  and  yet,  when  looking  back  on  it  after- 
wards, it  seemed  quite  natural,  for  no  one  could 
have  doubted  the  honesty  of  Mrs.  Richards'  pur- 
pose, even  if  they  had  doubted  her  statements. 
But  Vera  doubted  neither.  She  knew  the  accu- 
sation was  true;  and  when  on  Jimmy  coming  in 
a  few  moments  later  and  finding  her  red-eyed 
and  white-faced,  she  taxed  him  with  it,  he  recog- 
nised the  futility  of  denial,  though  he  pleaded 
extenuating  circumstances. 

"  I  was  miserable  and  lonely,  and  until  I  met 
you  everything  seemed  to  have  gone  to  pieces.  It 
will  never  happen  again,  darling,  really  it  won't. 
You  know  that,  don't  you?  surely  you  know  it." 
He  was  fighting,  not  only  for  her  love,  but  for 
his  whole  future,  his  position  in  society,  the  re- 
spect of  his  own  class.  If  he  lost  her,  he  felt 
he  would  lose  everything  else  which  a  Grierson 
holds  dear.  He  would  never  have  the  heart  to 
make  another  try. 

"  I  don't  know,"  she  sighed  at  last.  "  I  had 
such  faith  in  you,  and  this  has  been  such  an  awful 
shock.  Oh,  Jimmy,  Jimmy,  I  could  never  have 
believed  it." 


PEOPLE   OF    POSITION  267 

Even  in  his  misery,  it  struck  him  that  she  had 
believed  it,  very  readily,  and  a  hint  of  anger  came 
into  his  bearing.  After  all,  his  promise  of  refor- 
mation, or  rather  the  fact  that  he  had  already 
reformed,  should  have  some  weight  with  her. 
But  she  was  judging  him  by  the  past,  in  which  she 
had  had  no  part.  Still,  he  spoke  gently,  plead- 
ingly. 

"  Vera,  dear,  you  must  forgive  me.  It  will 
never  happen  again  now  that  I  have  you  to  look 
after  me.  You  will  keep  me  straight." 

But  he  struck  the  wrong  chord,  and  she  looked 
up  almost  indignantly.  ;'  You  ought  to  be  manly 
enough  to  keep  straight  by  yourself,  you  ought 
never  to  have  sunk  as  you  have  done.  There  can 
be  no  excuse  for  it,  none  whatever." 

"And  no  forgiveness?  "  he  asked  very  quietly. 
She  covered  her  face  with  her  hands  again.  "  Oh, 
I  don't  know,  I  don't  know.  Everything  seems 
so  dreadful,  and  I  shall  be  afraid  to  trust  you. 
Go  away  now,  and  let  me  think  it  over  quietly." 

"  Very  well.  I  will  come  back  after  dinner. 
Meet  me  down  by  the  summer-house."  There 
was  something  masterful  in  his  tone,  and  for  a 
moment  she  felt  inclined  to  obey;  then  her  sense 
of  injury  came  to  her  aid,  and  she  shook  her  head. 

"  No,  to-morrow  morning  at  the  earliest.  I 
cannot  decide  so  quickly." 


268  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

Jimmy  took  his  hat  off  the  table.  "  Good-bye, 
then.  I  will  come  to-morrow  morning."  And  he 
left  the  room  without  another  word.  As  the  door 
closed  behind  him,  Vera  stood  up,  straightened 
her  hair  in  front  of  the  glass  on  the  mantelpiece, 
dabbed  the  tears  out  of  her  eyes  with  her  hand- 
kerchief, and  then  went  upstairs,  holding  her  head 
rather  erect,  but  otherwise  showing  no  sign  of 
emotion. 

Jimmy  filled  his  pipe  whilst  he  went  down  the 
front  steps,  and  as  he  rammed  the  tobacco  into 
the  bowl  he  noticed,  with  a  cynical  little  smile, 
that  his  hand  was  perfectly  steady.  In  his  heart 
he  did  not  believe  that  the  quarrel  would  prove 
final,  that  she  would  break  off  the  engagement  on 
the  grounds  of  his  past  failings.  It  was  just  a 
passing  cloud,  he  told  himself.  Both  of  them 
would  have  been  more  upset  had  their  love  affair 
come  to  a  sudden  and  abrupt  close.  He  remem- 
bered how  he  had  felt  when  he  had  parted  from 
Lalage,  the  fever  and  the  agony  of  it,  the  sense 
of  utter  desolation  and  hopelessness.  And  from 
that  he  came  to  think  of  Lalage  herself.  She 
had  never  turned  on  him  because  he  drank.  Far 
otherwise.  The  knowledge  had  made  her  more 
tender,  more  watchful  over  his  comfort,  more 
anxious  to  shield  him  from  worries  which  might 
drive  him  into  the  power  of  his  enemy.  She  had 


PEOPLE  OF   POSITION  269 

never  blamed  him,  even  by  implication.  And 
why?  He  knew  the  answer  only  too  well.  Be- 
cause she  had  loved  him.  Now  the  fever,  which 
the  parting  from  Vera  had  failed  to  arouse,  came 
on  him  again.  His  pipe  went  out,  and,  uncon- 
sciously, he  quickened  his  steps,  as  was  his  way 
when  deeply  stirred. 

Lalage  loved  him.  Lalage  loved  him  too  well 
to  turn  on  him.  The  words  drummed  through 
his  brain  with  maddening  persistency;  and  then, 
as  a  corollary  to  them,  came  the  questions,  "  Did 
Vera  love  him  well  enough  to  take  the  risk,  to  give 
him  a  chance  to  run  straight?  Was  he  always  to 
be  the  Black  Sheep,  and  herd  with  others  of  his 
kind?" 


CHAPTER   XXX 

TT  was  only  a  couple  of  hours  after  Jimmy  had 
•••  left  Vera  that  the  chauffeur  from  Drylands 
brought  him  a  note  in  Mrs.  Grimmer's  sprawling 
handwriting. 

"It  will  be  all  right,"  Ethel  wrote.  "Vera 
has  agreed  to  take  the  sensible  view,  and  let  you 
show  outward  and  visible  signs  of  reformation 
during  your  engagement.  So  you  must  be  very 
good,  and,  if  you  can,  even  pious.  Come  up  to 
lunch  to-morrow  with  a  jaunty  air  as  though  noth- 
ing had  happened." 

Jimmy  heaved  a  sigh  of  relief  as  he  folded  up 
the  note  and  thrust  it  into  his  pocket.  So  the 
crisis  was  sa'fely  over,  after  all.  Straightway  he 
began  to  make  excuses  for  Vera,  her  youth,  her 
inexperience,  the  atmosphere  in  which  she  had 
been  reared;  yet  he  could  not  help  remembering 
that  Lalage  was  younger,  by  a  year  at  least,  and 
that  her  chances  of  gaining  experience  at  home 
had  been  far  smaller,  and  still  Lalage  had  under- 
stood him  and  tried  to  help  him,  whilst  Vera  was 
only  taking  him  as  an  offender  on  probation. 

The  latter  was  not  pleasant  thought,  especially 
270 


PEOPLE  OF    POSITION  271 

as  the  final  letter  to  Lalage  remained  unwritten. 
He  had  intended  to  do  it  that  night,  had  really 
made  up  his  mind  to  do  it;  but  now  this  scene  with 
Vera  seemed  to  have  shaken  his  nerves,  and  he 
felt  he  could  stand  no  more  strain  until  he  had 
had  a  good  sleep.  There  was  really  no  imme- 
diate hurry  for  a  day  or  two.  Both  his  letters 
to  Lalage  and  her  letters  to  him  were  so  brief 
and  so  few  in  number  that  no  one  could  object 
to  the  correspondence.  So,  in  the  end,  he  went 
to  bed,  moderately  satisfied  with  his  own  pros- 
pects, having  written  nothing  at  all. 

Jimmy  got  up  in  the  morning  with  a  certain 
sense  of  relief  in  his  mind.  He  was  rather  glad 
now  that  Vera  did  know  something  of  his  past 
failings;  it  was  better  for  her  to  understand,  and 
to  forgive,  than  for  him  to  live  with  the  fear  of 
exposure  ever  in  his  thoughts.  Their  little  quar- 
rel, if  quarrel  it  could  be  called,  would  serve  a  use- 
ful purpose  in  clearing  the  air;  and  now  there 
would  be  no  more  trouble.  He  would  soon  reas- 
sure her  by  giving  positive  proofs  of  reformation. 
Moreover,  he  could  write  to  Lalage  that  night, 
after  making  his  peace  with  Vera. 

The  morning  postman  brought  nothing  more 
interesting  than  a  receipted  laundry  bill,  which 
Jimmy  tossed  angrily  on  to  the  desk.  He  had 
been  expecting  a  letter  of  congratulation  from 


272  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

May,  in  fact,  he  had  looked  to  receive  it  twenty- 
four  hours  previously,  and  its  non-arrival  worried 
him  a  little.  He  had  been  hoping  that  the  news 
of  his  engagement  would  have  led  to  a  treaty  of 
peace  with  his  family,  being,  as  it  was,  significant 
of  his  surrender  to  the  Grierson  ideals.  Surely 
May  would  see  that  he  had  sown  his  wild  oats, 
and  was  ready,  eager  even,  to  marry  into  a  re- 
spectable family  and  live  respectably. 

His  breakfast  finished,  Jimmy  glanced  through 
his  newspapers,  at  the  same  time  keeping  a  look- 
out for  the  second  postman;  but  when  the  latter 
did  come  down  the  road  he  hurried  by  without 
even  glancing  at  the  cottage.  Obviously,  he  had 
nothing  to  deliver.  Jimmy  got  up  abruptly,  a 
frown  on  his  face.  They  might  have  written  to 
him,  and  have  offered  their  congratulations.  He 
had  given  in  to  their  ideas  completely  now;  his 
engagement  was  in  itself  tacit  recognition  of  the 
code  of  the  Griersons,  and  he  could  not  understand 
why  the  family  should  still  harbour  bitterness 
against  him.  Surely  he  had  suffered  enough  for 
his  revolt.  But  May  and  Ida  and  Walter  had 
always  been  the  same,  obstinate,  self-satisfied,  re- 
garding everything  he  did  as  necessarily  wrong. 
In  the  world  of  men  who  thought,  Jimmy  knew 
that  he,  himself,  was  quickly  gaining  a  position, 


PEOPLE  OF    POSITION  273 

and  that  his  wife  would  also  have  a  position, 
through  him;  but  his  family  gauged  position  by 
the  standard  of  the  pass-book,  the  only  book  it 
considered  of  any  permanent  importance.  The 
successful  business  man  was  respectable  by  virtue 
of  his  success;  it  made  little  difference  whether  he 
had  grown  rich  as  a  banker,  a  merchant,  or  a 
member  of  a  County  Council  committee;  but  the 
man  who  lived  by  his  brains  it  regarded  with  suspi- 
cion, as  one  who  made  an  income  without  possess- 
ing capital. 

Jimmy  was  in  a  bitter  mood.  The  little  mat- 
ter of  the  delayed  letter  had  brought  out  that 
alien  streak  in  him  again,  and  once  more  he  saw 
the  Griersons  as  he  had  seen  them  in  the  early 
days  of  his  return,  unsympathetic,  prejudiced,  al- 
most smug.  He  had  been  striving  hard  to  win 
their  approval.  He  had  given  up  Lalage;  he  had 
written  only  things  of  which  they  could  approve; 
he  had  become  engaged  to  a  girl  essentially  of  their 
world,  and  now 

A  sharp  knock  on  the  door  brought  him  to  his 
feet,  and  he  opened  the  latch  to  find  the  ragged 
little  girl,  who  generally  acted  as  telegraph  boy, 
holding  out  a  yellow  envelope.  "  Any  answer, 
sir?  "  she  chanted. 

Jimmy  read  the  message  through.     It  was  from 


274  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

Canon  Farlow,  and  had  been  despatched  at  the 
London  terminus.  "  Meet  me  on  the  station  at 
twelve-thirty.  Most  important,"  it  said. 

Jimmy  crushed  the  paper  up,  and  thrust  it 
into  his  pocket.  "  No  answer,  thanks,"  he  said, 
then  he  glanced  at  the  clock.  He  had  an  hour 
and  a  half  still  to  wait.  For  a  moment  he  thought 
of  going  up  to  Drylands  first,  to  see  if  Vera  too 
had  heard,  but  he  put  the  idea  aside  immediately 
after.  Already,  he  had  scented  trouble.  There 
must  be  something  very  serious  to  have  brought 
the  Canon  back  from  Switzerland  in  such  a  hurry, 
and  he  preferred  to  see  it  through  alone,  to  keep 
Vera  out  of  it,  if  possible. 

He  was  on  the  station  platform  a  little  early, 
in  fact,  he  had  time  for  several  drinks  in  the  re- 
freshment-room before  the  train  came  in;  then, 
rather  to  his  surprise,  he  found  the  Drylands' 
chauffeur  also  waiting  at  the  barrier. 

The  Canon,  a  portly  man,  clean  shaven,  and 
obviously  prosperous,  emerged  from  a  first-class 
carriage  with  a  bag  in  one  hand  and  a  rug  on 
the  other  arm.  Perhaps  for  that  reason,  he  did 
not  offer  to  shake  hands  with  Jimmy;  but  even 
when  the  chauffeur  had  hurried  forward  for  his 
things,  he  had  made  no  attempt  to  remedy  the 
omission. 

"  Good  morning,  Mr.  Grierson,"  he  said.    "  I 


PEOPLE  OF    POSITION  275 

am  glad  to  see  you  received  my  telegram.  Yes, 
Jones,"  to  the  chauffeur,  "  put  those  in  the  motor- 
car, and  kindly  wait  for  me.  I  shall  be  going  up 
shortly.  And  please  put  the  hood  up,  if  possi- 
ble. 

"  Now,  Mr.  Grierson,  is  there  anywhere  we 
can  talk.  I  have  a  few  questions  of  a  rather  seri- 
ous nature,  of  a  distinctly  serious  nature,  I  might 
say,  to  ask  you." 

Jimmy,  now  fully  convinced  that  his  theory  of 
trouble  ahead  was  right,  pulled  himself  together 
to  meet  it.  The  Canon's  manner  had  already 
aroused  his  antagonism,  and  he  was  in  no  mood 
to  submit  tamely. 

"  We  can  talk  in  there,  if  you  like,"  he  answered, 
nodding  towards  the  refreshment-room.  "  I  see 
the  waiting-rooms  are  occupied." 

The  Canon  frowned,  thinking  he  detected  a 
hint  of  flippancy  in  the  younger  man's  manner. 
"  I  said  it  was  a  serious  matter,"  he  replied, 
severely,  "  and  a  public  bar  is  hardly  the  place  for 
discussion,  hardly  the  place  I  should  be  likely  to 
visit  in  any  case."  He  glanced  along  the  plat- 
form, which  was  already  deserted.  "  I  think  we 
will  walk  up  that  direction,  if  you  please." 

Jimmy,  now  thoroughly  nettled,  took  out  his 
case  and  lighted  a  cigarette  with  rather  ostenta- 
tious coolness,  waiting  for  the  other  to  begin. 


276  PEOPLE   OF    POSITION 

At  last  when  they  got  to  the  open  end  of  the 
platform,  Canon  Farlow  cleared  his  voice  with  a 
little  cough  which  he  had  often  found  most  effec- 
tive on  solemn  occasions.  "  I  understand  from 
your  letter  that  you  have  proposed  marriage  to 
my  daughter,  Vera." 

Jimmy  corrected  him  quietly.  "  I  am  engaged 
to  Miss  Farlow.  I  am  sorry  if  I  didn't  make  that 
quite  clear  to  you." 

If  men  in  his  position  did  such  things,  the 
Canon  would  have  snorted;  as  it  was,  however, 
he  remembered  his  dignity  in  time.  "  Pardon  me, 
Mr.  Grierson,  my  daughter  knows  better  than 
to  accept  a  proposal  of  marriage  from  any  man 
without  my  permission.  Anything  she  may  have 
said  was  provisional,  simply  provisional,  until  I, 
myself,  had  made  inquiries.  I  regret  to  say  now 
that  what  I  have  learnt  about  you  is  greatly  to 
your  discredit,  terribly  so.  I  have  had  a  letter 
from  your  sister,  Mrs.  Fenton." 

Jimmy  was  pale  already,  and  he  went,  if  pos- 
sible, a  shade  paler,  with  anger;  but  he  spoke 
very  calmly.  "  Yes,  and  what  does  Ida  say  about 
me?  Something  pleasant,  surely." 

Hitherto  the  Canon  had  spoken  more  in  sorrow 
than  in  wrath,  but  now  he  began  to  lose  his  tem- 
per; he  was  not  accustomed  to  being  treated  lightly. 
"  Something  most  unpleasant  on  the  other  hand," 


PEOPLE  OF   POSITION  277 

he  snapped.  "  Something  which,  if  true,  as  I 
believe  it  to  be,  renders  you  totally  unfit  to  asso- 
ciate with  an  innocent  young  girl  like  my  daugh- 
ter. Mrs.  Fenton  informs  me  that  a  little  while 
ago  you  were  living  a  most  scandalous  life  in 
London." 

Jimmy  knew  that  his  case  was  hopeless.  He 
had  been  betrayed,  and  had  already  been  judged, 
unheard.  Still,  he  made  one  last  attempt  at  de- 
fence. "  It  was  over  a  year  ago,  and  I  have  never 
seen  her  since.  I  have  run  straight  enough  since 
the  time  I  left  London;  and  I  know  I  should  be 
true  to  your  daughter." 

"You  admit  it  is  correct,  then?"  The  canon 
gave  the  sigh  he  reserved  for  the  convicted  sinner. 
"And  where  is  this  woman  now?" 

The  colour  came  back  to  Jimmy's  face,  suddenly. 
"  That  I  shall  not  tell  you,  or  anybody  else,"  he 
answered  curtly. 

"  Do  you  still  keep  up  a  correspondence  with 
her?" 

Jimmy  realised  that  the  question  was  the  fatal 
one.  For  a  moment  he  thought  of  explaining, 
of  going  into  details  as  to  how  he  was  going  to 
break  the  last  slender  tie,  of  pleading  all  the  ex- 
tenuating circumstances,  of  appealing  for  a  chance 
to  prove  his  reformation;  then  he  glanced  at  his 
companion,  and  knew  there  was  no  mercy  in  his 


278  PEOPLE   OF    POSITION 

face.  :'Yes,  I  still  correspond  with  her,"  he  re- 
plied quietly. 

The  Canon's  wrath  blazed  out.  "  And  yet  you 
dare  propose  marriage  to  my  daughter.  You  are 
a  debased  profligate,  sir,  absolutely  unfit  for  any 

respectable  people  to  know.  You,  you "  he 

spluttered  a  little,  "you  are  a  positive  danger  to 
society.  The  idea  of  keeping  up  communication 
with  a  vile  creature  like  that,  and  expecting  to 
marry  my  daughter."  He  was  snorting  in  earnest 
now. 

Jimmy's  eyes  had  grown  dangerously  bright. 
"  I  allow  no  one  to  call  my  friends  vile  creatures, 
not  even  a  man  who  is  supposed  to  be  a  preacher 
of  charity  and  good  will.  Whatever  Miss  Pen- 
rose  has  been  in  the  past,  she  has  led  a  perfectly 
good  life  since  we  parted,  and  I  respect  her  as 
much  as  I  respect  any  other  woman  living."  He 
spoke  proudly,  defiantly,  looking  the  cleric  full  in 
the  face. 

For  a  moment  Canon  Farlow  was  speechless, 
then  he  attempted  to  take  refuge  in  scorn.  "  If 
you  are  really  so  foolish  as  to  believe  that  those 
creatures  ever  reform "  he  began. 

But  Jimmy  cut  him  short  sternly.  "  You  have 
said  more  than  enough  already.  Good  morning." 
He  turned  on  his  heel  and  went  a  couple  of  steps, 
then  something  struck  him  and  he  faced  round 


PEOPLE   OF   POSITION  279 

again.  "May  I  venture  one  suggestion?  Next 
time  you  preach  you  might  take  as  your  text,  *  He 
amongst  you  who  is  without  sin,  let  him  throw  the 
first  stone,' "  and  he  stalked  down  the  platform, 
leaving  the  canon  bereft  of  even  a  trace  of  his 
well-known  pulpit  manner. 


CHAPTER   XXXI 

JIMMY  did  not  attempt  to  go  back  to  the  cot- 
**  tage.  Instead,  he  walked  very  slowly  up  the 
street  towards  the  hotel,  the  door  of  which  he  was 
just  entering  when  the  Grimmer  motor-car  dashed 
past  with  the  Canon  sitting  very  erect  in  the  ton- 
neau.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  that  grave  personage 
had  eventually  entered  the  refreshment-room, 
feeling  he  needed  something  to  steady  his  nerves 
after  such  a  trying  interview.  True,  the  brandy 
did  restore  him  a  little,  but  the  memory  of  Jimmy's 
words  remained.  He  never  forgot  them,  and,  as 
his  wrath  subsided,  they  began  to  affect  him  in 
another  way,  making  him  ask  himself  whether, 
after' all,  he  had  read  some  of  his  Master's  words 
aright.'  As  time  went  by,  the  matter  troubled 
him  more  and  more — it  is  always  a  serious  thing 
when  a  man  past  middle  age,  and  a  dignitary  of 
the  Church  at  that,  begins  to  think — and  when,  a 
year  later,  Vera  became  engaged  to  the  son  of  one 
of  his  own  church-wardens,  a  young  City  man  of 
exemplary  life  and.  undoubted  wealth,  he  was  con- 
scious of  a  distinct  sense  of  disappointment.  He 
would  have  liked  a  son-in-law  who  would  have 

280 


PEOPLE   OF    POSITION  281 

understood  his  new  point  of  view.  He  married 
them  himself,  in  the  blatantly  new  church  with 
the  sprawling  texts  round  the  chancel  arch;  and 
the  world,  his  world,  congratulated  him.  But  on 
the  following  Sunday  he  preached  a  sermon  which 
shocked  his  congregation  beyond  measure,  and 
really  cost  him  that  bishopric;  for  he  took  Jimmy's 
suggested  text,  and  argued,  with  an  eloquent  fire, 
quite  alien  to  his  nature,  that  if  the  Master  was 
ready  to  forgive,  His  followers  must  do  the  same. 

Ida  voiced  the  opinion  of  a  good  part  of  the 
congregation,  when  she  said,  on  the  way  home 
after  the  service,  "Poor  Canon  Farlow!  It  is 
too  terrible.  The  excitement  of  the  wedding  must 
have  unhinged  his  mind." 

But  her  new  husband,  Mr.  Tugnell,  himself  a 
candidate  for  orders,  the  owner  of  the  living  hav- 
ing promised  that  he  should  succeed  the  canon, 
expressed  the  more  general  view,  when  he  said 
sharply,  "  Nonsense,  my  dear,  the  man  had  been 
drinking.  Anyone  could  see  that." 

And  Ida  agreed,  as  she  did  to  everything  Mr. 
Tugnell  said.  Even  when  he  had  suggested  that 
she  should  settle  half  of  Joseph  Fenton's  hard- 
earned  money  on  himself  she  had  consented,  know- 
ing that  he  was  a  philanthropist,  and  therefore 
would  use  it  well. 

May  Farlow,  on  the  other  hand,  grieved  hon- 


282  PEOPLE   OF    POSITION 

estly  for  the  canon,  and  still  retained  sittings 
in  the  parish  church,  though  she  usually  took  the 
children  to  the  chapel-of-ease,  where  is  an  old 
friend  of  ours,"  she  said,  "  and  I'm  not  going  to 
turn  my  back  on  him.  There  are  always  two  sides 
to  a  question  after  all,  and  I  want  to  hear  both. 
Perhaps  we've  been  wrong  in  some  things,  Ida. 
At  any  rate,  now  that  my  children  are  growing  up, 
I  want  more  than  ever  to  be  right,  so  that  I  can 
guide  them,  and  prevent  them  from  making  mis- 
takes. Sometimes  I  think  we  were  too  severe  in 
the  past." 

•  •  •  •  • 

Jimmy  hardly  noticed  the  canon  passing  him. 
His  mind  was  too  full  of  other  things.  Vera 
was  lost  to  him,  he  knew  that,  and,  somehow, 
the  fact  troubled  him  little.  With  her,  also,  he 
had  lost  all  present  chance  of  going  back  to  the 
Grierson  world,  of  becoming  a  true  and  complete 
Grierson  again,  and  curiously  enough,  that  trou- 
bled him  equally  little.  He  had  ceased  to  have 
the  slightest  desire  .for  such  a  thing.  A  black 
sheep  himself,  he  preferred  to  herd  with  his  kind. 

His  first  feeling  had  been  one  of  bitter  wrath 
against  his  sisters.  They  had  betrayed  him;  they 
had  thrust  him  back  again  when  he  was  trying 
to  pull  himself  up;  they  were  keeping  him  down, 
keeping  him  at  a  distance  for  fear  he  should  dam- 


PEOPLE   OF    POSITION  283 

age  their  position.  And  then  his  anger  seemed 
to  pass  away,  and  he  laughed,  first  at  them,  then 
at  himself.  What  did  he  care  about  position, 
what  did  he  care  about  Vera  Farlow,  what  did 
he  care  about  anything — except  Lalage? 

He  knew  it  now.  He  knew  why  his  engagement 
had  made  him  so  utterly  miserable,  knew  why  he 
had  been  unable  to  write  that  final  letter  to  Lalage. 
There  was  only  one  place  in  the  world  he  wanted 
to  be — where  Lalage  was;  only  one  object  in  life 
for  him — to  make  Lalage  happy,  and  by  so  doing 
wipe  out  all  memory  of  his  intended  unfaithful- 
ness to  her. 

But  would  she  have  him  back  now,  would  she 
forgive  his  coldness  and  his  neglect,  above  all  his 
repudiation  of  her  in  the  London  days?  Did  she 
still  love  him,  as  he  knew  she  had  done  once, 
love  him  enough  to  forgive  and  forget,  love  him 
as  he  loved  her?  The  thought  drove  everything 
else  out  of  his  mind.  Vera,  her  father,  his  sisters, 
all  seemed  to  belong  to  some  distant  past  with 
which  he  now  had  no  connection.  His  bitterness 
against  Ida  and  May,  his  anger  against  the  canon, 
his  first  feeling  of  grief,  or  rather  of  wounded 
pride,  when  he  learnt  that  Vera  was  lost  to  him — 
these  were  as  nothing  compared  to  the  fear  that 
Lalage  would  refuse  him.  He  was  like  a  man  who 
had  awakened  from  a  long  sleep  full  of  dreams 


284  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

to  find  that,  whilst  he  had  slumbered,  a  deadly 
peril  had  come  down  on  him,  a  peril  which  could 
be  averted  only  by  immediate  action. 

Jimmy  had  ordered  a  drink,  more  or  less 
mechanically,  as  a  tribute  levied  by  the  house; 
but  he  pushed  it  away  untasted. 

"  I'm  going  to  be  absolutely  sober  when  I  do 
this,"  he  muttered,  then  went  back  into  the  hall, 
where  he  spent  five  minutes  poring  over  a  time- 
table, following  the  trains  down  the  lines  of  figures 
with  a  finger  which  trembled  slightly.  Every 
hour  seemed  of  supreme  importance  now.  Had 
he  not  been  in  dreamland  for  over  a  year?  At 
last  he  found  his  trains.  He  had  three  hours 
to  wait  in  the  town,  two  hours  in  London;  but 
he  would  finally  arrive  in  the  little  Yorkshire  town 
about  half-past  seven  in  the  morning,  before 
Lalage  had  started  work  in  that  hateful  little  shop. 

There  was  no  need  for  him  to  write  the  trains 
down.  Their  times  of  departure  were  already 
graven  on  his  memory;  all  he  had  to  do  now  was 
cross  the  road  to  the  post-office  and  wire  to  Lalage. 
He  was  cool  again,  a  perfectly  normal  man.  All 
his  anger  and  his  excitement  had  gone;  but,  none 
the  less,  he  did  not  hesitate  a  moment  over  taking 
what  might  be,  what  he  hoped  would  be,  an  irrevo- 
cable step. 

An  hour  later,   the  kindly,   grey-bearded  old 


PEOPLE   OF    POSITION  285 

draper  beckoned  Lalage  into  his  private  office. 
*  There's  a  wire  for  you,  Miss  Penrose,"  he  said. 

Lalage  opened  the  envelope  with  trembling  fin- 
gers— only  one  person  in  the  world  would  wire 
to  her — then  she  swayed  a  little  and  gripped  the 
table  for  support,  as  she  read,  "  Meet  me  at 
the  station  half-past  seven  to-morrow  morning. 
Jimmy." 

The  draper  was  watching  her  anxiously.  "  No 
bad  news,  I  hope,"  he  said. 

She  looked  at  him  with  a  smile  which  reasurred 
him  instantly.  "  No,  it's  good  news,  the  best  of 
good  news,"  she  answered. 

When  she  had  gone  out  the  old  man  shook  his 
head  sadly.  His  own  wife  had  died  thirty  years 
before,  and  he  had  passed  nearly  half  of  his  life 
in  waiting  for  the  meeting  on  the  other  side;  so 
he  knew  what  that  smile  meant.  Only  a  man,  and 
the  right  man,  can  bring  it  to  a  woman's  lips. 

When  Jimmy  left  the  post-office  he  went  straight 
back  to  the  cottage.  The  fear  of  meeting  any  of 
the  Drylands  people  did  not  worry  him  in  the 
least.  They  all  belonged  to  the  dream,  even 
Ethel,  and  now  he  had  got  back  to  the  reality. 
Yet,  when  he  opened  the  door  and  found  a  note 
from  Mrs.  Grimmer  lying  on  the  floor,  he  did  not 
feel  a  twinge  of  uneasiness,  dreading  reproaches 
from  her,  as  his  hostess. 


286  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

But  Ethel  wrote  kindly.  "  Don't  take  it  to 
heart  too  much,  dear  old  boy.  It  was  a  nasty 
trick  for  Ida  to  play  you,  although  just  what  I 
should  have  expected  from  her  or  May.  As  for 
the  canon,  I  am  afraid  I  have  offended  him  mor- 
tally by  sticking  up  for  you.  Vera  is  hopelessly 
weak.  I  was  never  more  disappointed  in  anyone 
in  my  life.  Still,  after  all,  it  was  a  mistake,  and 
you  would  have  never  been  happy.  Take  comfort 
from  that,  and  don't  do  anything  rash." 

Jimmy  read  it  through  a  second  time,  then  tore 
it  up.  Ethel  was  a  good  sort,  but  if  he  did  what 
he  hoped  to  do,  she  would  probably  say  he  had 
disregarded  her  advice  and  acted  rashly.  So  she, 
too,  had  better  become  part  of  the  dream  and  be 
forgotten,  which  is  the  proper  fate  of  dreams  and 
dream-people. 

It  did  not  take  him  long  to  pack  his  bag  and 
shut  up  the  cottage;  consequently,  he  had  plenty 
of  time  to  catch  his  train;  but  on  this  occasion 
he  did  not  go  into  the  refreshment-room.  He 
needed  no  stimulant  to  keep  him  going  now.  If 
she  refused  to  hear  him  it  might  be  different;  but 
until  he  saw  her  he  was  going  to  touch  nothing. 
He  would  speak  deliberately,  in  cold  blood. 

For  a  moment,  when  he  came  out  of  the  ter- 
minus, London  affected  him  as  it  had  done  on 
the  night  of  his  home-coming;  but  the  feeling 
passed  immediately,  and  the  town  became  simply 


PEOPLE   OF    POSITION  287 

one  stage  on  his  journey  to  Lalage.  Moreover, 
as  he  drove  across  to  the  other  terminus,  he  felt 
none  of  that  sickness  at  heart  which  he  had 
dreaded  so  greatly,  which  had  made  him  avoid 
the  place  as  a  plague  spot.  All  the  old  memories 
seemed  to  have  lost  their  bitterness.  The  women 
in  the  streets  had  not  the  slightest  kinship  with 
Lalage.  His  jealousy  of  the  past  had  vanished, 
the  hateful  thoughts  which  had  once  gone  nigh  to 
driving  him  mad  had  lost  all  their  power,  and  now 
the  only  thing  in  his  mind  was  the  fear  that  the 
new  Lalage,  which  was  the  real  Lalage,  would  not 
risk  joining  her  life  to  his  again. 

As  the  train  came  into  the  station  he  saw  her 
standing  there,  tall,  very  pale,  and,  as  he  thought, 
looking  even  more  beautiful  than  ever  in  her  plain 
black  dress.  She  was  the  only  person  on  the  plat- 
form, just  as  he  was  the  only  passenger  to  alight; 
but,  seeing  the  look  in  her  eyes,  it  would  have  been 
the  same  had  there  been  a  crowd. 

"  Lalage,"  he  said,  and  took  her  in  his  arms. 

When  she  disengaged  herself,  blushing,  for  the 
ticket  collector  had  just  come  out,  she  scanned  his 
face  eagerly,  and  then  the  colour  left  her  cheek 
again. 

"  Jimmy,  oh,  Jimmy,  dear,  you  look  so  ill. 
Hasn't  anyone  taken  care  of  you  all  these 
months?" 

He  laughed  happily,  knowing  now  that  every- 


288  PEOPLE   OF   POSITION 

thing  was  well.  "  I  will  tell  you  all  about  it  by 
and  by."  Then  he  stopped,  regardless  of  the 
indignant  glances  of  the  ticket  collector,  who  was 
thinking  of  his  cooling  breakfast.  "  Shall  I  send 
my  bag  to  the  hotel,  or  shall  I  leave  it  here?  " 

She  understood  his  meaning.  "  Send  it  to  the 
hotel,"  she  answered  in  a  low  voice. 

Nothing  more  was  said  until  they  were  clear  of 
the  station  yard,  then,  "Where  can  we  go  and 
have  a  quiet  talk?"  he  asked. 

For  answer  she  led  him  into  a  little  public  park 
near  by.  It  was  deserted  at  that  hour,  and  he 
got  the  chance  to  speak  at  once. 

"  Lalage,"  he  said  in  a  tone  she  hardly  recog- 
nised, "  I've  broken  my  promise  to  you.  I've  been 
ruining  my  health  with  liquor,  trying  to  forget 
you;  and  I've  been  engaged  to  another  woman. 
I  know  you're  infinitely  too  good  for  me  in  every 
way;  but  I've  come  to  ask  you  to  marry  me,  not 
in  the  distant  future,  but  now,  at  once,  as  soon 
as  I  can  get  a  licence." 

She  stood  very  still,  and,  for  a  few  seconds,  he 
feared  he  had  come  too  late,  then  she  spoke  halt- 
ingly. "  Jimmy,  I'm  afraid  .  .  .  after  the  past 
.  .  .  that  you  wouldn't  trust  me.  And  that  would 
be  even  worse  than  this." 

He  took  her  hand.  "  Lalage,  dearest,  there's 
no  question  of  that  now,  there  can  be  no  question 


PEOPLE  OF    POSITION  289 

of  it  when  we're  married.  You  say  no  one  has 
taken  care  of  me.  Won't  you  do  it,  sweetheart, 
and  save  me  from  myself?  " 

She  looked  at  him  with  shining  eyes.  "You 
haven't  said  yet  why  you  want  to  marry  me, 
Jimmy." 

Once  more  he  took  her  in  his  arms  unresisting. 
"  Because  I  love  you,  dearest,  because  you're 
everything  in  this  wide  world  to  me,  because  I 
honour  you  and  trust  you  above  all  women,  and 
because  life  would  not  be  worth  living  unless  I 
had  you  as  my  wife." 


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